The League of Legends Vol 2
by Balladeer
Summary: A Brawl-based novel with literary pretensions. Second volume.
1. Introduction

**THE**

**LEAGUE**

**OF**

**LEGENDS**

OR

The Extraordinary Adventures of Eight Heroes on Planet Nintendo and Their Fight Against Villainy and Corruption

Vol. 2

Jonathan S. Cromie

The plains and pastures of the continent/country of Hyrule are lush and green. Their flora ripples in the breeze like small waves on a verdant ocean, its fish being farm workers with their cart horses, rock-spitting octopuses and green goblins hobbling through the waves, swinging their clubs aggressively at rodent-plankton. These rodents are the size of small ponies and built like brown furry body-builders, so maybe the simile should have ceased before that point, but the principle of an environment containing a thriving and varied ecosystem stands.

This has not changed over the year before this volume starts. When a group of people with undeniably despicable motives, each of whom would make Stalin look like a cuddly moustachioed teddy bear, take over the planet, and especially when the man who is effectively their leader is a homicidal warlock, convention states that all that was once grassland should become barren terrain where nothing may grow apart from some straggly poisonous toadstools. Ganondorf Dragmire, however, had been brought up in the desert, pining for the greenery of central Hyrule, and now that he was in power he was not going to get rid of it for the sake of image. In fact, he encouraged the agricultural workers with grants taken from the pockets of those who were no longer in any state to use their finances (usually because they had been "dealt with"), so if possible the fields on either side of the country road down which the round beige vehicle now swept were flourishing more than before the reign of the League of Villains Extraordinaire.

Whatever the grasses may have thought of the LOVE's rule, the rest of the planet was suffering from the oppression, lack of privacy and disappearances that are the inevitable results of the rule of any cruel authoritarian society, and it was for this reason that the ragtag band now seated within the beige hovercar were working to… sorry, _had been_ working to bring down the LOVE. For now, they were satisfied with bringing down the force field that had been around the planet, and were heading off on a further unrelated quest while they waited for IPAF (the InterPlanetary Assistance Force) to swoop in and…

I see those exasperated looks. Chances are, you are reading this after the first volume (if not, you're missing out) and already know all this drivel, and are thinking, "Heavens above, when is this berk going to finish enjoying the sight of his own typing and get onto the plot?" I feel for you, which is why I will make the introduction to the contents of the vehicle brief and (if possible) entertaining, and then plough straight on with some actual events. So, without further ado…

The car currently housed seven beings. The teenager dressed in an angel costume who was being allowed to pilot the craft, and doing it surprisingly well, was Pit, a former member of the goddess Palutena's bodyguard and a fan of heavy depressing metal. His black gelled hair was offset by the fact that he had not yet recovered from the joy of travelling with a bunch of heroes and heroines, with the result that he now gave the appearance of enjoying himself every so often.

The burly man who watched his driving with a despairing look was Captain Falcon, a many-time champion in the F-Zero Grand Prix who (as everyone knew) had a two-track mind. These two tracks were women and fast vehicles, and if the two could possibly overlap so much the better. His own two vehicles were currently AWoL, which was a constant cause for concern.

On the seats behind them sat two princesses, featuring large blue eyes and skin so pale you could stick some penguins in it and call it snow. The one with the sharp nose and ears, whose eyes were closed and hands were clasped in silent prayer, was Zelda, ousted ruler of Hyrule, magician and occasional blue-garbed ninja. She was praying to the Hylian goddesses, an activity she performed so often and with such vigour that it was somewhat frustrating to the others.

Her neighbour was Princess Peach, former despot of the Mushroom Kingdom and love interest of the current one, Bowser Koopa. She was simultaneously engaged in trying to make her filthy skirt look presentable, sneering contemptuously at her companion's religion and surveying intently the muscle-bound form of the racer in front of her.

He who sat next to her belonged to a peaceful race of big-nosed dinosaurs called Yoshis. This one was green, the chief of all the Yoshis and unimaginatively named Yoshi. He was looking balefully out of the window at the passing countryside, while his stomach reminded him with loud rumblings how long it was since his long elastic tongue had wrapped its way around anything edible.

In the back row sat a fat, smelly man with a nose that looked like a scarlet berry and an angry thunderbolt of a moustache. He was Wario, an ex-member of the LOVE who before that had been a highly successful businessman and who still was a coward with questionable personal hygiene; this was true to such an extent that most of the others refused to sit next to him.

The only one who would was Meta Knight, another ex-LOVE member who resembled a metal disc with angry eyes, stubby limbs and a cape. He kept himself to himself, partly because he was occupied in constantly regretting his past, and partly because his voice was deep enough to set off earthquakes, making every sentence embarrassing for him. His job was to poke Wario with his sword if the big man made any inappropriate comments.

That takes care of the seven in the car, who together with the eighth running alongside made up what was unofficially named the League of Legends. The final member was the fastest blue hedgehog alive (indeed, possibly the only blue hedgehog alive), Sonic of the planet Mobius. Sent to Nintendo by the IPAF to search for their previous operative, Solid Snake of the planet Terra, he had not only found Snake but had been instrumental in destroying the barrier around the planet, and was now dragging his new-found friends off in search of something that should not exist. Yes – he was dragging along a car that could travel at upwards of 300 kph.

The black and red figure, looking similar to him and currently cruising towards Hyrule in a small pod, is not a member of the LOL. We will come to him later. Now, some actual events.

o o o

Or rather, "Then, some actual events." Bear with me as we jump to someone and somewhere completely different – specifically, the Koopa Kingdom, slightly over a year ago. Very specifically, the former castle of the Koopa King Bowser, lord of his tortoise-like subjects and their barren volcanic nation, one year and twenty-four days ago. Looking at the rocky infertile plains of the Koopa Kingdom, not to mention its perpetual cloud cover and lakes of bubbling lava, it was not hard to see why the Koopas might want to acquire the green, pleasant and above all wealthy nation of the Mushroom Kingdom for Lebensraum, and Bowser was trying to do just that.

He racked his brains and paced around his beige-carpeted room, his heavy feet making the stonework shake slightly. He ran his clawed hands through his orange mane, scratched his horns and expelled small jets of flame from his nostrils. None of this helped to jog his mental activity.

The large tortoise-beast stopped near his window and looked out at the sun's rays, cheekily peeping over the horizon and through the thick clouds. Goddamnit. He had been thinking all night and come up with nothing. The large Koopa slumped, miserable, into his armchair, the spikes on his shell fitting neatly into the slots in the back.

What was the point anyway? Every plan he ever came up with was thwarted by that git Mario. The red-suited plumber and his brother Luigi had successfully thrown a plunger into every one of his schemes for taking over the Mushroom Kingdom, with the result that they got the kisses from Princess Peach while he was left chewing on the stale bread of defeat.

Bowser let out a long, exasperated sigh, which manifested itself as a flame and burnt a pen rack (a present from one of his eight children) to a crisp. He barely noticed it blazing merrily.

Three sharp raps rung out. Bowser lazily turned his heavy head to face the large red door.

"Come in, Kammy."

The old turtle in a purple robe scurried in, looking hopefully at her master's face for a sign of approval. Bowser could not stand the enthusiasm that radiated from the decrepit creature. He had hoped that two weeks of being his full time aide would stamp it out, but as of yet she still seemed to love her job.

"Good morning, your Earlyness!" she croaked.

Bowser redirected his gaze out of the window. He had forgotten how early it was.

"How dare you disturb me at this hour in the morning?" he yelled, flames erupting from his jaws. It was important to keep her on her toes.

Kammy jumped back in terror. "My apologies, your Crankyness, but there is a large green goblin in the front hall of your castle who wishes to speak to you!"

"How dare _he_ disturb me at this hour in the morning?" roared the large Koopa. "What does he want?"

"He says it's for your ears only, oh Lord Bowser. That he comes from Lord Dragmire."

Bowser's red eyes widened.

"Dragmire? What could that old scoundrel possibly…"

"Shall I find out, my lord?"

"No, just bring him into the throne room. And be quick about it!"

Kammy scuttled out sideways, crab-like, leaving Bowser to don his black spiky bracelets, anklets and collar in a slightly apprehensive manner. It was not that he disliked Ganondorf; it was that he hated him with a passion. Granted, the man was about as successful a villain as he (and by extension a soggy biscuit) was, but he was taken seriously. Despite being thumped again and again by "Hero of Time" Link, the denizens of Hyrule were still afraid of the dark wizard. The mushroom-esque Toads of the Mushroom Kingdom were more afraid of the houseflies staging a coup than of Bowser.

If the green man had wanted to take over the Koopa Kingdom (and why would he?), he would have charged first and engaged in diplomacy later. Thus the only possible reason for sending an ambassador was genuine desire to talk. They were thoughts such as these that buzzed around Bowser's brain like so many furious hornets as the orange tortoise-dragon made his way to the throne room.

The messenger stood before the throne, his unintelligent piggy eyes following Bowser as the Koopa walked up to the spiky iron chair and eased himself into it. The being before him was green and overweight, with massive horns erupting from his head. He grunted in a porcine fashion as he knelt. Ganondorf liked his minions to be all brawn, no brains. There was less infighting that way.

"Lord Koopa," grunted the troll, "Ganondorf Dragmire sends his regards."

"Whoopee," replied Bowser.

"I have a message for you from him," said the troll, standing up with a little difficulty and extending a hand in which a scroll was held. "It is apparently of the utmost importance."

Bowser took the scroll impatiently and scanned his eyes down it. It read as follows:

"Dear King Bowser Koopa,

I trust that this message finds you in the best of health. I realise that relations have not always been as cordial between the two of us as they might have been, and I wish to remedy this situation by offering you a great power, the likes of which you can only dream of. If you wish to finally conquer the Mushroom Kingdom with minimal effort on your part, meet me at the coordinates below at 1300h tomorrow. Bring some backup if you do not trust me. I shall be there alone.

Yours cordially,

Ganondorf Dragmire Esq.

p.s. Sorry about the messenger. He is as thick as two short planks made out of concrete."

A map was enclosed, showing a seemingly arbitrary part of Hyrule Field.

Silence. A crow cawed loudly outside, before giving a strangled squawk as one of Bowser's troops began to prepare his breakfast.

Bowser held the scroll at arm's length, as if afraid that it might explode in his face, and exhaled gently. The scroll burned for a few seconds before being reduced to ashes in the large orange fist.

"Please, sir," said the troll, "What shall I say was your reply?"

Bowser looked at the green creature as if seeing him for the first time.

"Tell Mr. Porker that he will be there alone," he said, as if in a dream. "And no funny business."

As Kammy shooed the large lumbering figure from the room, Bowser pondered. Villains, by their very nature, do not like sharing power, and since this was the only reason Ganondorf might possibly have to send this message, had the messenger come on a different day he might have been sent home lacking one of his horns and bearing an insulting response. As it was, Bowser's despondent state made him more persuadable.

"Any orders, your Pensiveness?" simpered Kammy.

"The Koopa Cruiser will be prepared for take-off by twelve o'clock tomorrow," stated Bowser in a matter-of-fact voice.

From outside came the yell of a troll who had just discovered that the wild boar he had ridden to the castle had been converted into bacon by Koopa Troopers.

o o o

Twenty-nine hours or so later, the Koopa King was hovering towards a massive oak in his Koopa Clown Car, its fixed grin directed at the trunk. As he left the helicopter, he listened to the absolute absence of any birdsong or animal noises. The wide area under the oak's leaves was completely silent, apart from the dry grass crunching beneath his feet and the dying engine of the Clown Car. There was also a certain rank smell in the air, a mixture of month-old sweat and manure that grabbed the nose by the collar and demanded its lunch money.

"Ganondorf!" Bowser yelled, apprehensive at the lack of anyone visible. "Where are you?"

A man with green skin, red hair and black armour stepped out from behind the trunk.

"You're late, Bowser," he said, striding towards the Koopa.

"So are you."

"I came late because I knew you'd come late."

"But I only came late because…"

Bowser stopped, realising the circular nature of the conversation before the words left his mouth.

"Well, no matter," said Ganondorf, smiling warmly through thin lips. "Here you are, and here I am. Alone."

"So I see. Well, Mr. Dragmire, I should warn you that my Koopa Cruiser is hovering above us in case you would like to try any funny business." Bowser indicated the large warship with his face on hovering above them, just visible through the leaves.

For answer, Ganondorf stamped his foot. There was a rustling of weapons, and suddenly the area was surrounded by goblins. Another stamp and they were gone again. The mystery of the stench was solved.

"Now, hang on!" said Bowser, visibly perturbed. "I said… You said you were…"

"Oh, Bowser, use your brains," said Ganondorf with a slight chuckle. "Did you really expect that I would let you meet me with an army and have no defence of my own? You are so naïve."

Bowser ground his sharp teeth while Ganondorf, with a swirl of his cloak, turned towards the oak.

"Don't worry, old chap. They won't attack you. I need your help, you see."

"And why would I help you?" growled Bowser.

Ganondorf's hands waved in the air, as if feeling for something invisible. First one, then the other, seemed to catch hold of something Bowser could not see.

"I told you in the message that I had something to offer you," he said without turning.

"A great power, you said."

The thief's hands glowed bright purple as he pulled them apart. As he did so, a huge purple portal opened up before him, filled with purple light and emitting a low moaning sound.

Bowser's jaw dropped. "H… how did you do that?"

Ganondorf merely smiled and beckoned, walking slowly into the purpleness beyond until he was lost in violet mist. Bowser shook his head and dashed after the wizard, each heavy footstep making the ruins tremble, until he stepped into the mist and his feet seemed to be wrapped in cotton wool. Then he too was gone into the fog.

The portal snapped shut behind them.

o o o

The purple mist gave way to more purple, but at least it was visible, penetrable purple. In fact, it was a set of steps, giving off an eerie blue light, leading up towards a shimmering platform suspended in purple space, through which stars glimmered faintly. There was no wind, no sound but the vast emptiness of the purple cosmos.

Bowser stood for a while, trying to drink the expanse in. He might as well have tried to drink the sea. He gave up and realised that Ganondorf had placed a hand on his arm.

"What are you doing?" said Bowser, his mind snapping back to the close and the mundane. "Gerroff me!"

"If I do not keep my hand here, you will cease to move," said Ganondorf. "The matter around us will freeze you in time if you let it."

"In that case, how come you don't freeze?" asked Bowser, nonetheless allowing himself to be lead up the blue stairs.

"It is all part of the great power," said Ganondorf. "Come on."

As Bowser climbed, looking into the purple void around him, his steps became languid and sticky. The purple glow that emanated from Ganondorf's hand seemed to keep him going, and they pressed on, passing galaxies and constellations, until they reached the large platform suspended in purple space. Ganondorf drew Bowser to the centre and held his free hand aloft.

"Oh Master, I bring you the other I spoke of!"

IS HE TRUSTWORTHY? boomed a great voice, echoing off the empty space and making them shake.

"No!" cried Ganondorf. "He is a cruel and greedy despot with plans for world domination!"

GOOD. THEN HE SHALL KNOW ME.

If Bowser had thought that his awe quota was maximised for the day, he was proved very wrong as the speaker appeared before him, hovering over the platform and staring at them with its no eyes.

"But… You're not meant to be real… You're just a myth…"

COME FORWARD, BOWSER KOOPA.

He obeyed mutely, and as he did Ganondorf let go of his arm. For a brief moment he felt time speeding up massively around him, and then suddenly there was a blast of purple flame that sent him careening across the platform in his shell.

HMPH. LITTLE STAMINA. THE DARK WIZARD WAS ABLE TO TAKE THE GIFT BETTER THAN YOU.

Emerging from his shell, Bowser thought about saying something, but you do not quarrel with a legendary being at least five times your size. Not if you are smart, anyway. He settled for, "What have you done to me?"

I HAVE GIVEN YOU THE POWER OF SUBSPACE, BOWSER. IN RETURN FOR A FEW SMALL TASKS THAT YOU SHALL COMPLETE FOR ME, THIS POWER IS YOURS TO WIELD.

Bowser looked at his arms, blazing with purple fire. He felt invigorated, strengthened, an inner power rising. He let out a blast of red flame – it emerged as a purple fireball, twice the size of his head, and exploded on impact with the platform, forcing the Koopa King to shield his eyes.

"What is this devilry?" he said in shock.

THAT, BOWSER, IS THE POWER OF THIS REALM. SUBSPACE. I SHALL SAY NO MORE FOR NOW, OTHER THAN THAT THOSE WHO LAUGHED AT YOU ONCE MAY NOT BE SO KEEN TO DO SO AGAIN.

Bowser let loose another experimental ball of pyrotechnics. "I'm… powerful! It blazes inside me like a curry of strength! I feel mighty enough to crush the Marios and take over the Mushroom Kingdom all by myself!"

WELL, YES, YOU COULD DO THAT, IF YOU'RE AIMING SMALL.

"I beg your pardon?"

YOU HEARD. OR YOU COULD WORK TOGETHER WITH GANONDORF AND ME AND TAKE OVER FIRST THE PLANET; THEN THE GALAXY; AND THEN… WHO KNOWS?

Bowser looked at Ganondorf, but the green man had gone. In his place stood…

"Wow."

o o o

The portal opened, and Bowser, drunk on power and delight, stumbled out and toppled onto the grass. Ganondorf followed in a rather statelier manner.

"Whoopee! Look at me!" Bowser enthused. "I'm the most powerful thing in the universe! Whee! See, Mario? See how I crush you and your no-good brother? I'm a god now, and you are just tiny insects beneath my massive SubSpacey feet! Who's saying 'wahoo' now, eh? I think it's…"

"…us," said Ganondorf firmly. "So, what do we do now?"

"Take over the Mushroom Kingdom," said Bowser, grinning. "What else?"

"Wrong answer," said Ganondorf, pushing the Koopa's shell with his foot. "You heard what He said."

"But villains don't work together!" protested Bowser, dragging himself up.

"Well, look what happened when we tried it. I think you're enjoying the results."

Bowser giggled like a schoolgirl, before assuming a shocked and hurt expression. "You're not suggesting…"

"…that we share this power with anyone else? Goddesses forbid!" said Ganondorf. "We're just going to start spreading the world, and get started on Projects X, Y and Z."

"I like the sound of Project Z," said Bowser, his voice full of evil glee. "Especially the bit where we seize Mario and…"

"Get to work, Bowser," said Ganondorf strictly, before adopting a more friendly tone. "I know we don't use technology much in Hyrule, but I'll get a computer, just to keep in touch. I've heard there's this Intranet thing that's quite useful. Well, see you around, and keep the SubSpace powers hush-hush!"

Ganondorf shot off in a cloud of purple fire, his army toddling after. The hypocrite, Bowser thought. Tells me not to use SubSpace powers, and then zooms off with them. Well, no reason why I shouldn't have a little fun too.

As the army departed and the birds and animals, driven away by the noise and smell, began to edge back towards their nests and dens in and around the old tree, they were rudely interrupted in their return by the spinning shell of Bowser Koopa, aflame and shooting across the fields at very high speed, straight off a small furrow and into a massive boulder.

"Ow."

o o o

Time passes.

First came the hostile takeovers of Hyrule and the Mushroom Kingdom. Then the rest of Nintendo fell, and many disappeared almost overnight in what came to be known as the Purges, including the planet's heroes and protectors. Nintendo became one country, governed by villainy and ruled by greed.

Thus for eleven months, more or less, Nintendo laboured under its new masters with little hope of redemption. All attempts at overthrowing the LOVE were crushed mercilessly, a force field erected at around the six-month mark dispelled all hopes of outside help, and except for a lucky few a miserable time was had by all.

All of this is described in greater detail in the first volume. So are the events of the first volume. Thus if you want to find out about the formation of the League of Legends, the rescue of the princesses, the battle for New Pork City and more, you would do well to... Yes, you guessed right. For now, we will rejoin the ragtag bunch of characters that had become Nintendo's great hope as they come to a halt in Hyrule Field, not so far from a familiar tree.

And time passes.


	2. 0 Virtue

**§0 Virtue**

The Saturn Pork Bean, as the beige vehicle (unbeknownst to its current occupants) was in fact called, drew to a stop. This was because Sonic had drawn to a stop, and was holding a dead Chaos Emerald above his head. The once-powerful gem glowed weakly, and Sonic was inspecting it and wearing a bewildered expression.

"Your driving's getting better," Captain Falcon admitted begrudgingly as he left the car.

"You really think so?" said Pit brightly, his face wreathed in smiles.

"Given how you were in the beginning, it would have been difficult to get any worse."

"He's a natural," said Peach indulgently. Pit beamed.

"I do not see any IPAF ships," said Meta Knight, looking up at the sky.

"They'll turn up," said Sonic without turning around. "Eventually. They probably have to complete three tonnes of paperwork before they can launch an assault. Still, this is a pretty clear-cut case of villains oppressing an innocent planet. They don't have any excuse to _not _turn up."

Wario was the last out of the car. Squeezing his large waist (somewhat smaller after weeks of adventuring) through the door, he joined the others in circling around Sonic and observing the Emerald, but lacking Meta Knight's cape-wings and the others' height he had to hop up and down to see anything.

"So let me get this straight," he panted between hops. "You're saying that you used up the Emeralds' power to get to Nintendo, and they're the only ones in the universe, but now they're picking up signals from other Emeralds?"

"The universe is a pretty big place," said Sonic. "But these are the only ones I knew of. Until now…"

Yoshi pointed at the sky and squeaked rapidly.

"He asks whether that's an IPAF vessel," said Meta Knight, pointing with his sword.

They looked at the small pod, red hot after its journey through the atmosphere and approaching the ground like an old friend.

"Whatever it is, it's heading straight for us!" cried Sonic.

"Farore's Winde!"

There was a green flash, and suddenly the group was standing a good mile or so away, in a safe position for pod observation. First they saw the collision, the explosion and the earth being thrown up; then the BOOM and the shockwave hit them at the same time, bowling them over onto their backs. Then there was the aftermath, mostly consisting of rustling and squawking as Hyrule Field's fauna recovered from the blast.

"Thanks, Zelda," said Sonic.

The Hylian princess, still standing, raised an eyebrow.

"And the goddesses," said Sonic, rolling his eyes.

The rest of the group slowly raised themselves from the turf. Perhaps given what they had been through so far they should have been better at dealing with tremors, but they were all thoroughly shaken (pun intended). What they needed was a few minutes to pull themselves together without any more sudden shocks.

What they did not need was the sudden appearance of what looked like the emo-ness of Pit crossed with the everything else of Sonic about four feet away. The result was that Pit himself fell back down with a cry. Sonic just glared.

"So, still alive, then?" the new arrival said with a smirk.

"Nice to see you too, Shadow," said Sonic dryly.

Shadow differed from Sonic only in the black fur with red highlights, the downy white chest and the complete lack of humour in his smile. It was as if Sonic had been lightly charred while being forced to listen to My Chemical Romance.

"Guys," said Sonic wearily, "allow me to present Shadow the Hedgehog, another Mobian who claims to be my rival. Shadow, these are…"

"Why don't you introduce them to someone who gives a damn?" suggested Shadow. "It's you I'm here for."

"Well, lucky lucky me."

Shadow laughed, a short harsh bark that sent a small group of birds that had just re-alighted upon their perches back up into the air.

"Not so much, Sonic. I'm here to kill you."

Seven awfully familiar-looking stones appeared as if out of nowhere and span around Shadow, glowing slightly. Wario's eyes lit up with greed; Sonic's lit up with terror.

"How did you get those?" he cried. "I…"

"…had the only seven in existence?" said Shadow, grinning. "You really think IPAF would have let you destroy them if that was the case? They'd already perfected the creation of artificial ones. And they told me to use them to deal with you."

"But… why…?"

"They feel that it would be easier to use the new Chaos Emeralds to negotiate with the LOVE than to try and fight them off. But you, Sonic, you might tell someone about this. You know too much."

A purple emerald alighted in Shadow's hand, glowing ominously, while the other six continued to orbit around him. He extended the stone towards Sonic, who cowered a bit.

"CHAOS…"

Meta Knight's sword emerged from its sheath, the yellow eyes fixed on the gem.

"…Bounce."

Shadow threw the gem at Sonic's forehead, catching it as it rebounded.

"Ow!"

"Oh, relax," Shadow said, turning casually. "I'm not going to kill you. Wouldn't have been worth my while."

"You mean, you were messing with me the whole time?" yelled Sonic at Shadow's back.

"Oh no. Everything I said is true. The IPAF would much rather you were dead. But I've got my own agenda, and it doesn't involve taking orders from a bunch of pâté-munching port-swilling pen-pushers who've never fought their own battles in their entire life."

The sword withdrew once more, but its wielder remained on edge. The remainder of the group were unsure as to whether they could relax without being zapped by the emeralds, and remained in a state of semi-tension. The exception was Sonic, who was fuming like a spoilt child told that another ice cream would make him sick.

"How COULD they? After all I went through for them?"

"Bullshit, Sonic," sneered Shadow. "You took the job because you wanted to show off, not because anyone told you to."

"If you're not here to kill Sonic," said Peach gently, "why did you agree to come to this planet?"

Shadow turned to the Princess, seeing her properly for the first time. Gazing into the limpid blue eyes, he seemed to soften. He looked at and shuffled his feet.

"I was curious," he muttered. "Curious about what was going on. That's all."

"You wanted to help?" pressed Peach.

"I didn't say that!" He stormed off a couple of paces and looked out over the fields. "Just interested in the odd energy signatures."

"I believe the appropriate term is 'tsundere'," sneered Wario.

A red shockwave bowled the fat man head over heels with a short cry of "Wah!"

"SHUT UP!"

More calls of disturbed birds. Otherwise, silence.

"Shadow, your landing is bound to have attracted attention," said Zelda softly. "Maybe you can tell us about why you came here and about these energy signatures somewhere else?"

Yoshi gave some squeaks to the effect that the ration packs they had brought in the vehicle were still in the vehicle and that he was hungry. Meta Knight translated them badly.

"Guess we all pile into the car and eat lunch?" suggested the Captain. "Do you eat, emo-Sonic, or…"

"NEVER CALL ME EMO-SONIC!" shouted Shadow.

"Let's get him inside," said Meta Knight, "before we get LOVE guards on our tail and Hyrule Field has no birds left."

o o o

After a bit of quarrelling over who sat where, the crowd were ensconced in the vehicle. Peach had eagerly volunteered to sit in the front next to the Captain, who had taken over from Pit as driver. Yoshi was eventually persuaded to sit with Wario and Meta Knight in the back, which he did screwing up his giant nose and wearing the expression of a martyr. That left Zelda to sit with Shadow and Sonic, both of whom were still fuming slightly.

As the Captain drove on, they ate from their ration packs, Zelda offering Shadow some of hers. At first he declined awkwardly, but eventually suffered himself to be fed some chicken sandwiches (made freshly from Hylian Cucco chickens – Pit had covered his eyes and wept when the Captain broke their necks).

Shadow had unfurled a map, which he spread over his knees and those of Zelda and Sonic. It was a surface map of the entire planet, and Shadow had made purple and cyan marks at various points. It was soon covered with lettuce fragments and breadcrumbs.

"I can sense certain energy sources from a long way away," said Shadow. "As I flew around this planet in my pod, I used this map to WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US?"

The hovercar had stopped inches away from a large boulder.

"Brakes aren't as good as the Blue Falcon's," grumbled the Captain.

"Let Pit drive," said Zelda sternly. "He doesn't take silly risks or complain incessantly about how much worse this car is than his own."

"Wouldn't have been a silly risk if it was the Blue Falcon."

"I traced two types of energy," continued Shadow, as the car started up again with a different pilot. "These purple markings are one type; as you can see, there's a huge patch here…"

"That wasn't five minutes' drive from where you crashed," said Zelda.

"…and another large patch here on top of this mountain, joined by a sort of channel. And lots of small ones all around. If I'm not mistaken, it was the same sort of energy that went into the massive barrier they put around the planet."

"I can't believe the IPAF want to kill me!" moaned Sonic. "After all I did for them. Call that gratitude? 'Cause I don't."

Shadow rolled his eyes and talked more towards Zelda. "Then there are very localised patches of this blue energy. Not so many of them. They're like pinpricks, but very distinct. These are where they were shortly before I landed."

"Again, there was one very near to the crash site."

"It wasn't a crash," said Shadow sniffily. "It was a perfectly manoeuvred landing."

"Just like a perfectly manoeuvred elephant being dropped out of a skyscraper," jeered Wario.

Shadow whisked around to face the fat man, his eyes blazing. Yet as he prepared to yell at Wario, who was trying to shuffle away from him, Yoshi and Meta Knight at the same time (a feat which required a shrinking device), his anger turned to confusion.

"Turn out your pockets!" he barked.

"What? Oh no, you don't want me to do that," simpered Wario. "I haven't washed these pants since I got them, and their pockets stink like…"

"DO IT, FATTY!"

Wario hurriedly reached into his trousers and inverted the pockets. Out of the first one spilled his grubby wallet, a pile of banknotes and a few cloves of garlic. He was not lying – they really did stink.

"You cad!" exclaimed Meta Knight. "We're supposed to be pooling all our finances!"

Wario's attempt at an ingratiating grin turned Yoshi's stomach. "Well, they were just in case I needed a light snack, you know…"

"Light snack? You could buy a half-tonne banquet with that amount!"

"Other pocket, Tubbs," said Shadow.

Wario obliged; the pocket divulged a hanky so filthy a dung beetle would have been ashamed to make its acquaintance and a golden key set with a blue stone, glowing brightly through the layer of muck that now covered it. Shadow's eyes glowed in kind, and he snatched it up and examined it eagerly.

"Aha! What's this?"

"That's a SubSpace Key," said Wario, trying and failing to reclaim the object. "Give it back!"

"This is the source of the blue energy," said Shadow with a toothy smile that would make blind children cry. "What does it do?"

"Not quite sure," confessed Wario. "Ganondorf and Bowser gave them to all of the LOVE bigwigs shortly after he" (indicating Meta Knight) "flew the coop. Something about surviving when the Day of Reckoning comes, and getting into the prison…"

He stopped. Everyone had turned on him and was listening intently (Peach had to remind Pit to keep his eyes on the road). He gulped and carried on.

"Ganondorf said that these keys would allow us to survive on the Day of Reckoning, but I've got no idea about what that is or when it'll be. He also said it was the key to the Dark Prison, where all the heroes they captured during the Purges…"

("Nice use of the word 'they' there," sneered Falcon under his breath.)

"…are held. But it's no good looking at me like that, because even if I'd remembered earlier he said that everyone needs one key to get in, and there are nine of us but only eight LOVE bigwigs (well, seven and me), and that means only eight keys…"

Shadow made his harsh barking laugh again. "Believe me, I have no intention of getting myself in trouble over the safety of this miserable planet. I'm quite happy to see it burn. I'm just here to… Sonic, stop smirking. It looks like you've eaten a whole lemon."

Sonic maintained the smirk but said nothing.

"In any case," cried Wario, "We won't be able to just waltz up to the LOVE guys and say, 'Hey there, can I have your SubSpace Key, please?' And even if we could, it would take us ages to go all over the country and find all the keys! And we still wouldn't know where the prison is!" He was approaching lunacy now.

"Well, we can make an educated guess," said Sonic. He plucked out a blue spine and stuck it through the biggest purple splodge on the map.

"Eight blue marks. Eight of us. I say we split up and take one key each, and then make our ways back towards the big purple blob. Pit, stop the car for a moment so we can all gather round and look at the map."

Pit brought the vehicle to a halt while the Captain chuckled about the unintentional pun ("Pit-stop!") and Peach rolled her eyes. Then the front row clambered over their seats and they all surveyed the plan of Nintendo.

"That one's in Port Town, so I should take that one out," said Captain Falcon. "One in Hyrule, one in the Mushroom Kingdom… I'd say the princesses should take care of those, but it's dangerous for them to…"

"I'd prefer not to be patronised, Falcon," said Zelda. "With the Goddesses' help, I'm more than capable of fighting through my own kingdom without a chaperone."

"Plus no-one would ever recognise me in these rags," said Peach despondently, plucking at her khaki skirt.

"That's settled then," said Sonic. "Shadow and I will take the one near the other big purple blob…"

"Whoa whoa whoa. I thought I told you I wasn't interested in helping this planet?"

"And I thought you said you were curious about what was going on?"

Shadow gritted his teeth. Sonic sighed resignedly.

"And I'll probably need your help," he said.

"I'll think about it," Shadow grunted.

"I will go to Dreamland," said Meta Knight. "That leaves one in Smashville and one in the Pokémon territories – Sinnoh, I think."

Yoshi squeaked and pointed at himself.

"So Yoshi will go to Sinnoh," said Sonic, scratching paths out with the spine, "and that leaves…"

"Me."

The word was dropped into the conversation like a leaden weight. Pit seemed suddenly to have lost all the spark he had gained over the past month. His dyed-back hair was covering up his eye again, and he sat hunched with his arms around his legs, the very picture of misery and loneliness.

"Pit," said the Captain, "if you want any help…"

"It's okay, I'll go," said Pit with a very forced smile. "Off on my own again, wandering the world. I've always liked the idea of being the lone wolf anyway. The brooding romantic hero with the troubled past."

The others exchanged looks. When someone used the expression "lone wolf", a being of Pit's disposition would not be the first to come to mind. The same was true for "romantic hero."

"You should take the vehicle," said Zelda. "You're a better driver than Falcon already."

The Captain clenched his fists. Pit smiled weakly.

"Well, time's a-wastin'," he said with depressing mock cheerfulness. "The LOVE isn't going to defeat itself. Guess we should all dismount and say our good-byes."

He rose unsteadily like a new-born lamb and wobbled slightly as he made his way over to the door. After a few tugs he found that he did not have the strength to open it, and stood by slightly embarrassed as the Captain pulled it open with one hand. Eight of the car's occupants walked out onto the desert sand, leaving Wario still sitting in a sort of stunned haze.

"What about meee?"

o o o

"L-l-lord B-b-bowser?"

Bowser gave a snort and opened his eyes slowly. The fact that he was sitting down told him that he had been asleep in some sort of chair; that it moved when he tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position told him that it was a swivel chair; and the whining voice that woke him told him that it was the swivel chair in his office at the top of the Bowser Power Tower, a 172-story building overlooking Project Y. Its original name had been the Mushroom Tower, a name which Bowser felt lacked a certain something. That "something" was Bowser.

He pulled himself fully upright, trying to ignore the protests of his body, and looked across his desk. He could just see the top of the head of Project Y's foreman, a fawning orange dwarf of the Koopa subspecies known as Lakitu. Bowser could never remember his name.

"What do you want, you disgusting insect?" snarled Bowser, before yawning broadly. "What was so important that you had to interrupt my power-nap?"

"Th-th-there is a large black ch-ch-chariot at the t-t-tower's entrance," stammered the Lakitu. "It is d-d-drawn by two m-m-massive black horses."

Bowser was not of light build; yet now he sprang to his feet like a much sprightlier tortoise, albeit a much sprightlier tortoise suddenly fearing for its life. The thump when he landed knocked some plaster off the ceiling of the room below and into a mug of coffee being drunk by one of the office workers.

"Ganondorf?" screeched Bowser. "What are all the builders doing?"

"Th-th-they're not here yet!" screeched the Lakitu, managing to get his voice substantially higher than his master's. "You reduced their workload to four hours a day, remember? So they all come in at noon!"

The clock on Bowser's desk had its long hand pointing at the nine and its short hand inclining towards twelve. Right now, they were both sticking their middle fingers up at Bowser.

"Get them to come in now, on pain of brutal torture and death!" yelled Bowser, running for the lift. "I'll try and stall Ganondorf!"

The trip down in the lift seemed agonisingly long, to the point where Bowser was pummelling his head for not taking the stairs (all one hundred and seventy-one flights of them). He looked at himself in the lift doors and tried to make his wisp of orange hair and thick bushy eyebrows lose their bedhead quality.

A single ring of a bell told him that he had reached the lobby, and he rushed out with a smile that said less "Ganondorf, how glad I am that you're here!" and more "Ganondorf, you're swimming in my patch and now you're my lunch." Not that it mattered, for Ganondorf was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Dragmire?" yelled a distraught Bowser at the wide-eyed receptionist.

The young Koopa Trooper was on her third day of work. She had been told that receptionist at the Bowser Power Tower was a perfect job for an attractive but overly emotional Koopa who tended towards the hysterical. Nice and peaceful. The only people who worked there were calm, civilised office workers, they had a good sexual harassment policy, and if she was lucky she might see the Koopa King. Now that she had seen him, she pointed up the stairs and burst into huge gasping sobs.

On another day, Bowser might have stayed behind to comfort her, but he knew that if he failed to stop Ganondorf things worse than shouting would happen to him. In fact, shouting would almost be a relief. It was when the green man smiled and talked quietly that bad things ensued. He ran back into the lift.

Another lift journey back to the top of the building and many flights of stairs later, the two villains finally met. Both were panting and out of breath, but Ganondorf still managed to muster up a smile. Bowser did not.

"Bowser, old fellow, good to see you," gasped the wizard. "I trust you are well?"

Bowser did his shark impression again.

"A bit exhausted, perhaps, but otherwise good, all good," he wheezed. "And yourself? How goes Hyrule?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. Reports about the LOL continue to circulate, and the other day I found some of my posters defaced, but I had some women and children brutally murdered to teach the populace a lesson and that was the end of that."

Bowser grimaced. He may have been a diabolical villain, but he was unable to take the same level of joy in executions as Ganondorf. The eagerness made him a bit queasy. Then again, that could have been the fear of dismemberment.

"Wouldn't that fail to teach a lesson to the men?" he asked.

"I alternate," said Ganondorf with a shrug. "It'll be men next time; then maybe some Gorons the time after. I despise discrimination. Anyway, enough of this little tête-à-tête. I said I'd come by and have a word with the workforce – well, here I am!"

"No, you said you'd have a word with them if I was having problems, and…"

"Aren't you? I had a look at the building site before I came here. There doesn't seem to be anybody about."

A knell rang in Bowser's ears.

"Well, you couldn't be expected to see anyone from the ground, could you?"

"Maybe so, Bowser, maybe so. That's why I thought it would be a good idea to have a look from your office. Floor 171, isn't it?"

_Bong, bong, bong. The King is dead. Long live the King._

"Absolutely," said Bowser, his shark grin about to snap. "Would you like to see some of the offices first? I mean, this is the tallest building in world…"

"No thanks. I see enough offices back at home."

_BONG, BONG, BONG._

"Oh. All right. Shall we continue to climb the stairs?"

"Bowser, if you want to I shan't stop you. I, however, have had enough fitness for one day, and shall take the lift from hereon up."

_THE KING IS DEAD._

The funeral march playing in his head was interrupted by a guffawing coming from his pocket. He quickly fumbled for the mobile BowserPhone and listen to the trembling voice of the foreman on the other end.

"The w-w-workers are here, your Resplendentness, as you ordered."

_LONG LIVE THE KING._

"Good to know," came the relieved response. "Yes, Ganondorf, the lift will do nicely."

o o o

The LOL stepped out into the noonday sun, which burnt down strong over the sands. The cattle skeletons and trails from burrowing sandworms told them they were still in Hyrule, but the smiling sentient cacti hinted that the Mushroom Kingdom was not far away.

There was a sort of awkward silence as they stood on the sandy scrub, knowing that soon they would be going their different ways across the world. It was especially ironic given that not two days previously, they had been brought back together from the brink of separation by the same energy signals that had landed them with this new objective. Apart from Shadow (who had decided to stand some way away) they each gave their share of the cash pool to Zelda, who divided it equally amongst the eight. Then they just stood looking awkwardly at the others. The only sounds were the cries of desert vultures and the shifting of sand under shuffling shoes.

"Do you really fantasise about having threesomes with your vehicles?" blurted out Peach.

Even Shadow looked at her in shock. Peach stood panting for a moment and staring at the Captain, before gathering herself up and trying to regain a dignified pose.

"You said it when we were back in my castle," she said.

"Pretty sure I didn't," said the Captain, looking bamboozled. Then the thunder struck. "No, I said _trios_! You know, like music groups? Getting together with our guitars and rocking out? That sort of thing?"

Peach's mouth hung open.

"I can see what you mean, but, well – it's a bit weird."

Peach closed her mouth, nodded and stalked off. She sat down a little distance away and played with the sand.

"Did I say something wrong?" said the Captain to the others. "Would she prefer it if I fantasised about having sex with cars? 'Cause I could try…"

"Just go and talk to her," said Zelda.

"What's a threesome?" asked Pit.

"We'll meet back here in a week," said Sonic, as the Captain walked off. "Should be long enough, assuming we can all find vehicles. If anyone takes longer than a week we'll all pile in the hovercar…" (here he was interrupted by a cough) "…except possibly for Shadow, and we'll come and find whoever's missing. If Pit brings the car back, I suppose."

Everyone nodded. Wario opened and shut his mouth several times, but could not bring himself to say anything.

o o o

"Would you prefer it if I fantasised about my cars?"

"Obviously I wouldn't," snapped Peach, not looking at the Captain as he sat down next to her. "It's sick and stupid. Really, really _stupid_."

The Captain remained in confused silence. He placed an experimental hand on Peach's shoulder and braced himself for the resulting slap. He was slightly surprised when it did not come.

"D'you want to… talk about it?" he tried.

"No. I don't. I just shouldn't open my mouth every again, because every time it's something stupid, or something jealous and bitchy. I mean, I know I'm not super-nice and magical like Zelda, but I'm still a good person, right? I've ruled the Mushroom Kingdom for ten years now, ever since my dad died of the Blorbs, which is only meant to infect Toads but he was half Toad so it killed him…"

The Captain sat back slightly as the waterfall of words poured out of Peach's mouth and into his ears. No woman had ever said this much to him, ever. It barrelled through his brain like an F-Zero car at top speed jumping over the track barrier and barrelling through the spectators, and his brain was left in much the same state.

"…stuck inside my own room! I can't even try and jump to safety because he's put a giant net over my balcony. I felt like a rat in a cage! And then this Snake guy shows up, and he's nice, and he gives me the stuff to escape, but then he vanishes and when we see him again he's all flirting with Zelda…"

"You know," said Captain Falcon, "I'm pretty sure he wasn't flirting with Zelda at all."

"Oh yes, because you're amazing at spotting flirting," snapped Peach, suddenly facing him with eyes full of fire. "Ha! You wouldn't know flirting if it stared you in the face!"

They stared at each other for a while.

"You know," said the Captain after a long pause, "you're cute when you're angry."

Peach's eyes softened dramatically, like toffee dropped into a saucepan. She even allowed a small smile to creep across her full lips.

"Come on," said the Captain, standing up. "Let's get back to the others before they think _we're_ flirting."

"God forbid," sighed Peach.

o o o

"So did you manage to keep your pants on while you were talking to her?" said Sonic.

"You're so predictable," said Peach. "Just because he comes to cheer me up, you automatically assume I'm going to start flirting with him."

"Actually, I assumed _he_ was…"

"Well, for your information, neither of us was doing any flirting. I just said something stupid and he was making me feel better. That's all. No flirting. Okay?"

There was mutual movement away from the fuming princess.

"We should really get going," said Sonic, still looking worried. "We all know what direction we're roughly heading in, right?"

There was a bit of looking about, a lot of nodding and Wario continuing to attempt to force out words that stuck in his windpipe.

"Okay!" said Sonic, wiping his eyes. "Well, it's been nice travelling with you all, and I guess we meet back near here in a week then! So see you guys later!"

"What about meee?"

The words had finally escaped Wario's throat, thin and reedy in contrast to the fat man's usual powerful baritone, and they now hung in the air as he looked with wild, desperate eyes at his companions.

"What about you?" retorted Pit.

"There are seven other keys," said Wario, "and each of you is going to get a key. That leaves me alone, doing nothing!"

Sonic furrowed his brow. It was true. He'd quite forgotten about the portly Italian.

"I guess you just get to do nothing for a bit!" he said, hoping this sounded like a good thing.

"And wander the countryside eating berries? As soon as anyone sees me, I've had it! The LOVE will pick at my bones like vultures!"

A vulture cawed for effect. Droplets were forming in the corners of the piggy eyes.

"I guess you could go with someone?" said Sonic, looking around hopefully.

"You volunteering?" asked the Captain with a smile.

"No way! He'd slow us down. Why don't you take him?"

"You crazy? The first thing I'm doing is getting the Blue Falcon back, and there's barely room in there for me, let alone Tubby McSmells. There's plenty of room with Pit in the car…"

"He threatened to tear my wings off and eat them!" protested Pit.

"Well, he's not coming with me!" said Peach. "I wouldn't be able to sleep at night with him…"

"I'll take him."

The serenity with which these three words were delivered surprised everyone.

"You sure, Zelda?" said Sonic. "I mean, you don't have to…"

"We're wasting time!" shouted Zelda. "Let's go!"

Sonic nodded, and waved to everyone. Then looking at Shadow, he sped off towards the northwest, the black hedgehog in hot pursuit. The Captain ran towards and over the border into the Mushroom Kingdom, and Peach did the same, albeit at a slower pace. Meta Knight span into a tornado and set off towards the northeast; Yoshi surrounded himself in an eggshell and rolled towards the southeast. Finally Pit, giving Zelda a parting hug and looking at Wario with an expression of distaste, clambered into the Pork Bean and set off east, in the direction they had come. Beauty and the Beast were left alone on the scrub.

"Why did you volunteer to take me?" said Wario, looking up into Zelda's soft blue eyes.

"Later, Wario," said Zelda. "For now, take my hand."

Wario clumsily took Zelda's dainty fingers in his own massive unwashed paw, being careful not to crush them. The princess' eyes glowed green and she raised her free hand to the heavens.

"Farore's Winde!"

Green flash – gone.

o o o

"Well, your speech certainly seems to have inspired the workforce," said Bowser gloomily.

"I appreciate the complement, Bowser," said Ganondorf, "although I do not feel that I deserve such flattery. The brutal disembowelling of the foreman probably had as much of an effect on the workforce morale as anything I said."

"Which reminds me – could you please wash your hands?"

"What sort of villain are you that can't stand the sight of blood? Yes, yes, all right. Where's the loo?"

"Second door on the left, and it's on your right."

Bowser watched the dark man walk down the reflective corridor with a jaunty step. The sort that usually gets his minions to do the dirty work, he thought to himself. Probably for the best that I didn't learn his name after all.

He looked at the red trail that showed Ganondorf's path. At least Mario had had the decency to jump on the Lakitus' heads. His boots fractured the skull and spine and crushed the brain instantly for a quick, comparatively painless death. There was none of the screaming and bleeding and dragging the body about, none of the "Lord Bowser, help me!" that Ganondorf had seemed to enjoy so much.

He wondered if, given another chance at Ganondorf's offer, he would have accepted it again or rejected it and gone about his everyday life. Of course, if he had refused then someone else would have taken the role – Ridley, perhaps, or Porky (who was MIA at the moment). Perhaps he would have accepted the power, then sneak-attacked Ganondorf and conquered Nintendo himself. But how do you sneak-attack the sneakiest man in the world?

All that was in the past, anyway. It was time to move on; specifically, time to move back to the castle. He had no choice but to try again. Perhaps Junior had grown strong enough now…

"Going somewhere, Bowser?" asked Ganondorf, wiping his hands on his trousers.

"Er, home," said Bowser. "Thought I'd check that Kammy's not ruining the place, see my family, that sort of thing."

"Oh, if you must," said Ganondorf. "I've never understood the appeal of family. Waste of time if you ask me. You put your life, your money, your health into rearing hideous mewling puking brats, and how do they thank you? By running off and leaving you alone in your old age."

"I love them, Ganondorf. Just because I'm a power-hungry dictator doesn't mean I can't feel love."

"You know, Bowser, every time I hear that word it reminds me what you named our little organisation, and it makes me like you that little bit less. Never bring it up in my presence again." Ganondorf strode off towards the exit.

"You must have had some experiences of love yourself," persisted Bowser. "What about your own family? What about Zelda?"

The green man paused, turned and looked Bowser in the eye. Then he titled his head back and guffawed violently for a good minute.

"A simple 'no' would have done."

**1**

**1 ****And in that time there was much chaos, and there were things being created and destroyed almost constantly, and none to watch over it. ****2 ****And then there did come forth from the depths of the chaos a form. And it was large and white, and it did take the form of a human hand, with four fingers and one thumb that was opposed unto them. ****3 ****And it did hover amongst the chaos, battered by the forces of creation and destruction.**

**4 ****And said it then unto the chaos, "I am the physical manifestation of the creative force. I know this, because I have been created from this creative force, and because all around me is chaos, only I have been created from the creative force, making me **_**the**_** manifestation of it." ****5 ****And it did say "the" with emphasis to emphasise that it was the only such manifestation of the creative force.**

**6 ****And it did reach into the chaos, and held it in its palm. And at once, the chaos within its palm was given shape, and became a small tree. ****7 ****And then it brought forth earth, and water, and light, that the tree might grow and become tall and mighty. And it called the tree a "palm tree" after where it was made. ****8 ****And emboldened by its success, it did create as well an entire planet, floating in the void of space, and it did put the tree on the planet. ****9 ****And then did it say to itself, "I should have made the planet first and the tree later, really. Ah well."**

**10 ****And now that the tree was made, and the planet around it, the creative spirit did need to decide upon a name for itself. ****11 ****And it said unto itself and all the cosmos (which was not paying attention – perhaps the TV was good that day), "I am the Master of creation, and I have taken the form of a Hand. Thus shall I be known as the Master Hand." ****12 ****And it did chuckle at its own brilliance, and this chuckle did set off major earthquakes on several nearby planets, and many lives were lost.**


	3. 1 Wrath i

**§1 Wrath**

Peach's figure may have been slight, but she was far from insubstantial, or wraith-like, or spectral, or any one of the vaguely ghostly adjectives which would have made her easier to carry. The Captain did not mind, though. This may have been partially due to the fact that the muscle-bound figure was not just for show, or that he had Peach's slender thighs pressed around his neck, but it was mostly because his mind was somewhere else entirely.

Finally, going back to Port Town after all these years. Ever since learning of the attack on his island fortress in his absence, the Captain had avoided his home city like the plague. That was not an option any more. Maybe he should have got someone else to go there in his stead – someone less recognisable, someone less likely to drive into town in a machine known by every inhabitant. But that was not an option either. There was business back in the Town he had to take care of himself, business he could not put off forever.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he completely failed to notice the burning sunshine or the magnificent desert scenery. Huge pyramids towered up from the desert sand, oases shimmered enticingly in the sunlight and trains of camels paraded serenely by. Although hot and perilous, Dry Dry Desert had a certain charm for those able to appreciate it.

"Captain?"

The Captain seemed to have just become aware of the pretty woman atop his shoulders.

"What did you say?"

"I asked whether we should stop at that oasis. You must be getting tired of carrying me."

"Not really. I'd forgotten you were even there."

They walked for a while in silence, the Captain's piston-like thighs propelling them onwards.

His pondering was interrupted by a faint howling sound. An ill wind began to blow around them, whipping at his feet with sand. It soon amplified in intensity, the battering sediment moving up his body and attacking his legs, stomach and arms, Peach's legs, and finally reaching his curly hair.

"What's going on?" he said, putting his hands in front of his face.

"Tweester tornadoes!"

Turning to look behind him, the Captain could see the two whirlwinds, complete with malevolent grins, homing in on their position. The sand buffeted the hapless duo as their windy assailants bore down upon them, slowly but surely.

"What have we done to them?" protested the Captain, backing away.

"Oh, nothing. They just like tossing people in the air for fun. They can be helpful sometimes, though."

Peach clambered awkwardly down from the Captain's shoulders and faced the Tweesters head on.

"Well, I guess this is it for now," she said with a smile. "See you when we've got the keys."

"We can't give up!" said the Captain, taking the princess' hand. "Even with you on my back, we can still outrun them!"

"I'm not giving up," said Peach, pulling her hand away. "I'm taking a shortcut."

And then suddenly her arms were around his neck, her slender body pushed against his toned torso, her soft lips pressing against his, sand-chapped and out of practice. Despite the whirling wind and intense confusion, the Captain thought he detected a slight smell of flowers. And then she was separated from him again, running towards the oncoming Tweesters.

"See you later!"

Before he could say anything she was snatched up by a stray gust, and then the Tweesters were playing with her, passing her back and forth, spinning her round and round, building up her momentum all the time, and then looking at their quarry with unrestrained vicious joy they threw her up into the air, still spinning, hard enough to send her quickly out of sight.

"YOU BASTARDS!" shouted the Captain. "Do you know how long it has been since any woman has done that to me?"

The Tweesters turned their grins on him.

"So… I'll just be going now, hey?"

o o o

He sat on the dunes, a good distance from all whirling winds, and tried to collect his thought processes. His mind was oblivious to vulture calls and sandstorms, or the slow movements of multi-segmented cacti with faces in his general direction.

A hot babe – and not just any hot babe, but the Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom – had just kissed him on the lips. Not just a passing peck, but an intense, passionate farewell kiss. Despite what he would pretend, this was not something that occurred often to the Captain. For all his flirtatious behaviour and innuendos, he lived a secluded life and most of the women he met were fellow F-Zero drivers he would rather vanquish than romance.

The implications were profound enough to make the Captain briefly forget all about his mission in Port Town. Had he not been thinking about settling down? Might not this woman, who (and in retrospect the signs were obvious) fancied him like mad, be a possible future wife? Might this not put him in charge of the Mushroom Kingdom when all was done here? Was he thinking too far into the future? And would Mario, upon being rescued from the LOVE's clutches, use his trademark mallet to dye the Captain's auburn hair a darker shade of red?

Such thoughts occupied the Captain's brain, jostling and fighting like two drunken hunters over the last baby seal, until a familiar noise returned the smile to his iron face. It was the sound of an engine coming towards him. Rolling down the sleeve of his tunic, he pressed a few buttons on the device on his wrist and the Blue Falcon changed course slightly, driving towards him over the dunes and smashing through several of the cacti.

He had been afraid to use the remote control device to retrieve his vehicles, in case they alerted the LOVE to his presence or got damaged on the journey; but having left the Blue Falcon safely by the Marios' house, he had felt bold enough to subject it to a voyage without him. Now it drew to a leisurely stop, and the Captain rose to greet it.

"Heya, gorgeous," he said indulgently. "Where've you been? Daddy's missed you."

"…know where we are!"

"Oh relax. I'll take care of this."

Impossible! There were voices emanating from the cockpit! One was thin, reedy and Italian, the other a bold American alto. Who dared to ride in the machine of the great Captain Falcon? More to the point, who had spotted it despite its cloaking device? The driver stomped over to the vehicle and prepared to open the roof, ready to yell at top volume at whoever dared to be inside. He was slightly thrown when the roof was tossed open for him.

"Hi! I'm Daisy!"

The person who said this was a tanned girl with a round face and brown hair, similar but not identical in style to Peach's. She had an open and engaging smile, and stared at the Captain almost defiantly. Behind her cowered a figure wearing Peach's dress and a wig evidently modelled on the princess' hair. It also sported a droopy moustache.

"Luigi?" said the Captain, now far too bewildered to be angry. "What are you doing dressed like that?"

The younger Mario brother gaped without answer for a few seconds. "Er… well…"

"Does he have to have a reason?" said Daisy, grabbing the Captain's face and turning it towards her own. "My, but you're a cutey."

The Captain's astonished appearance was replaced with his more usual smarmy grin. "Princess Daisy, I assume? The lovely ruler of Sarasaland?"

"Before it went bankrupt and got 'voluntarily' merged with the Mushroom Kingdom, yeah," said Daisy with a slightly less cheerful expression. "And you must be Captain Falcon, survivor of the Purges and all-round beefcake. This your car?"

"Yes, it is," said the Captain, with a bit of his previous annoyance. "What're you doing in it?"

"Oh, we're real sorry," said Daisy, pushing Luigi (who was frantically trying to remove the dress) out onto the sand. "Luigi here was just showing me what a neat-o job you've done with it. Talk about a sexy vehicle! I wouldn't mind taking her out for a spin, if you know what I mean."

The battle was won. The Captain's chest had inflated to match his ego, and he quickly tapped in a few commands on his wrist communicator.

"Quite all right," he said, beaming. "Just glad to know someone enjoys my hard work! Now, I've got to get going, but I'm going to send you my Falcon Flyer to take you back home. Nice to meet you, Princess."

He took her hand and kissed it. She giggled. With a final disdainful look at the scrunched-up form of Luigi, the Captain boarded the Falcon, waved and sped off, leaving clouds of sand in his wake.

"You were flirting with him!" said Luigi when he was sufficiently far away, a look of annoyance replacing that of terror and embarrassment.

"Sweetie, do use your common sense," said Daisy in a tired voice. "If I hadn't flirted with him you'd have a flaming fist up your ass by now. Had to make it obvious too; that sort of man doesn't get flirting unless you shove it in his face."

As Luigi tried to rise off the sand, she pushed him roughly back down and sat on top of him, smiling slyly. "My heart only belongs to one pathetic droopy-looking plumber. Can you guess who?"

Luigi smiled weakly. "Good to know you think so highly of me."

"You bet I do. Now, how about you put that power-hungry bitch's costume back on and we have some fun before the transport arrives?"

o o o

Time passes.

Not much time, though. The Blue Falcon was almost fully topped up, so had the Captain not been required to pause for food, bed and lavatory breaks the journey would have been all but direct from eastern Mushroom Kingdom to Port Town – in such a beast as the Falcon, not a long journey at all. However, the Captain knew the importance of keeping blood sugar topped up, sleeping well and urinating before a race, and so made a couple of stops. He slept in his car like a drunken koala.

I say "all but direct" because on the way the Captain, after lots of consideration and with a heavy heart, drove the Falcon to a small garage along the way (the kind that was unlikely to know about Captain Falcon and/or call the LOVE if his car turned up) and had it painted silver. Driving into Port Town in broad daylight was dangerous enough – driving into the centre of the Nintendo F-Zero racing scene in the best-known car on the circuit, with its cloaking device close to expiry, was tantamount to suicide. And so did the poor garage workers feel awfully hard done by, as the well-built man in nondescript clothes with curly red hair and an _awfully familiar vehicle_ peered over their shoulders incessantly, checking they were not doing anything disastrous to his car. He ended up doing half the job himself, but they did not object. They charged the same either way.

At an hour and a half, that was the longest part of the journey, with the exception of nine hours' sleep. Having set off at close to two, the Captain reached the Port Town district at about eleven the next day. Gone were the quaint mushroom-shaped dwellings and grassy plains, replaced by skyscrapers, hovercars and a lot of noise and light. Monorails passed by overhead, traffic stretched upwards for a mile or so and fumes were pumped into the air, before being sucked in by the air purification system that was the only reason for the lack of a massive smog cloud over the city-state.

It brought memories swimming back. The Captain remembered so many people – his old F-Zero rivals, the bumbling Samurai Goroh and the downright evil Black Shadow; Jody Summer, another F-Zero racer and his old flame; Samus Aran, the galaxy-protecting bounty hunter who had stayed here for a while before being captured in the Purges; the kid Saki… But most of all, it brought back memories of the Cylinder Wave Incident. It was these last memories that kept the Captain's hands firmly clenched on the wheel, his eyes cold and hard as iron.

And time passes.

o o o

The small pub used to be called "the Starfish", and had born a banner of a yellow five-pointed star with a happy face. Since the last time the Captain had been here, it had changed. It was now "the Metroid", named after a vicious parasitic alien that looked like a jellyfish and feasted on the life force of its victims. The Captain smiled. How appropriate.

As the automatic door hissed open, it became clear that the change of management had lost the establishment few customers, even at one in the afternoon. The atmosphere, however, was radically altered. The decoration was the same – simple one-legged tables, neon lights, shiny metal surfaces stained with stale booze. What was lacking was the uplifting disharmony of drinking songs, the cheery music of conversation. Instead, men and women huddled around tables, staring into pint glasses with glazed eyes, trying to forget the past rather than enjoy the moment. The only man who was singing fell off his chair as the Captain walked in and spent the next few minutes acquainting himself with the floor.

The Captain attracted some looks, especially from the women, but in his dirty clothes and without his trademark helmet he went unrecognised. He walked up to the bar and leant on it, noticing as he did so the speakers and screens that now decorated the walls and ceiling. LOVE propaganda, he thought. They say you're never more than ten metres from a rat in Port Town. Now, they might just be right.

He was approached by a jittery adolescent, who shuffled along the counter looking at his shaking hands. His hair was an untidy mess that might once have been blonde, his blue eyes sparkled with fear rather than liveliness and his milky skin, stretched over his bones, was blotched with grey dirt. He looked at the Captain's face, his mouth forming a word that was hurriedly choked back as he gasped and stumbled into the bottles behind, sending a vessel of some noxious red liquor tumbling to the floor. The loud crash turned a few heads, and the boy hurriedly grasped a cloth before diving out of sight behind the bar.

"And hello to you too," said the Captain.

The boy reappeared, his hands looking as if they had just stabbed someone. His eyes were large and desperate, and below them his mouth formed shapes his throat would not let him pronounce.

"This isn't the Saki Amamiya I remember," said the Captain softly. "What happened to the athletic kid who could shoot an alien menace in the eye from twenty paces?"

It seemed as if the spark of an old fire reignited in the boy's eyes as he replied. "D-died. D-died with all those on the c-c-cylinder. And with you, D-douglas Jay Falcon. It died with y-y-you."

"Can't have done, though, can it?" said the Captain, fiddling with a glass. "'Cause I'm not dead."

The two stared at each other for a while, the Captain appraising, Saki with a sort of desperation in his face. The drunken man was yelling how he had raced against Captain Falcon and almost won back in the day, while others muttered amongst themselves or nervously eyed the screens.

"Why did you come back, D-douglas?" stammered Saki, relieving the Captain of his glass and almost dropping it. "This c-c-city isn't s-s-safe for you. This isn't a s-social visit."

"The hell it isn't!" said the Captain, pointing at a bottle of spirits. "I got people I want to see, kid! Check how my old buddy Saki's holding up, for one. And for two…"

Saki poured the bottle into the glass, spilling clear fluid all over the counter. Then he passed it across, gazing into the Captain's eyes with a look of comprehension.

"You can't just w-w-waltz through the city until you f-find the guy you want," he said. "The Town isn't that k-k-kind any more."

"Weren't that kind in the first place. Remember when you were giving me a shooting demonstration in the alley, and those muggers came up to us, and you demonstrated on them? Man! What's that kid doing shaking like a leaf behind a bar?"

He was rewarded with a weak smile, and bending low over the counter he pressed the advantage.

"You know who I am, Saki. You know what happened to me that day. You know who I want to see, and I reckon you can get me to him. Underneath that blonde mop, there's a mind as sharp as your energy sword. Can't you shake it into action? For the sake of an old friend?"

His eyes on the screens, Saki poured another measure of clear spirit into a second glass, this time with a slightly steadier hand. Then he emptied the glass down his throat, spilling a bit of liquid onto his face, and gasped briefly. After a moment's thought, he turned to the Captain with a smile.

"How much h-h-humiliation are you willing to go through, to meet with this b-beast?"

o o o

The Captain felt ridiculous.

Granted, he was utterly invisible like this, even more so than when he entered the tavern. Was it not said that to remain invisible, one should stand in plain sight? (If it was, he had no idea who by.) But for a man used to being the height of fashion, dressing up like this felt absolutely ridiculous. Especially the sandals. He hated the sandals. If this idea failed, they would find Saki scattered in several little pieces all over the town.

As the Captain continued his walk down the mucky pavement, the hovercars beside and above him honking their horns as if making loud noise was going out of fashion, he tried to practise the accent and some of the strange phonetics Saki had taught him. As a man used to talking for all his life in what would on Terra be an all-out apple-pie true American drawl, getting his tongue around the new sounds was a bit problematic. Getting his massive flagon between pedestrians was even more so.

Eventually he arrived at the mayoral office, fortunately not too far from the Metroid, red faced and out of breath. The office had also suffered extensive remodelling since his last visit – now its entrance was fronted with a massive torii, and the entire building resembled a squat pagoda. The contrast between the faux-Japanese building and the massive skyscrapers towering over it on all sides could not have been greater. Huffing slightly, the Captain hauled the massive flagon up the long flight of steps that led to the large red gate in front of the office. Near the top he stumbled and almost fell, balancing precariously on the tips of the sandals, but just managed to keep upright.

The gate was decorated with pictures of tengu of several varieties, flying past a drawn landscape of skyscrapers presumably meant to be Port Town and scattering coins down upon the populace. On either side stood two blue and white robots with red headdresses, bearing a different gun in each hand. When they were met with the bewildering sight of Captain Falcon with a cloth wrapped around his head, dressed in a half-open bath towel, belt, shorts and geta sandals, and carrying a massive bottle, they stood in front of the door and raised their weapons.

"State your business," said the one on the right.

The Captain pulled himself together, inwardly cursed Saki and grinned broadly, showing all his teeth. He gave the robots the thumbs-up.

"Ohayo!" he shouted, scaring some pedestrians back on the road. "I here to see Mayor Goroh-kun desu!"

"The Mayor does not see anyone without an invitation," said the robot on the left. "Please state your business."

The Captain thrust forward the heavy flagon with an overly dramatic gesture. The effort nearly sprained his wrist.

"Sake!" he yelled, maintaining the grin. "Speciaru gifto from the Meturoido desu! For Mayor Goroh-kun!"

The left robot spoke into a communicator on his wrist. "Mayor Goroh, we have an offensive stereotype here who has a flagon of sake for you. No, he says it's a gift. Twice the size of my head. Are you sure, sir? As you wish, sir." It turned to Falcon. "The mayor says it had better be good sake."

The gates slid open, revealing beyond them a peaceful courtyard featuring running water, fish statues and an excess of bonsai trees.

"Straight ahead," said the right robot. "Big room with a red dragon on the door. You can't miss it."

"Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto-san sama!" shouted the Captain, crying a bit inside. "Rong rive the ROVE!"

The sound of synthesised birdsong was not enough to block out the road rage that continued to emanate from the street, so the garden did not quite have the "home from Japan" effect it was going for. Nevertheless, it was all very scenic and peaceful, with the exception of the identikit robots in French maid outfits that wandered through the courtyard and made the Captain feel a bit unwell. On the opposite side, a painted dragon leered horribly at the disguised F-Zero pilot, who approached it and knocked three times on its eyeball.

"Who is it?" asked a slightly more refined Japanese accent than the Captain's fake one.

"Sake for Mayor Goroh-kun!"

"Come in!"

The Captain stumbled into the room, which was a minimalist affair. With the exception of the desk at one end and a reed mat, there was no furniture. The owner had clearly tried to make up for this by overloading the walls. Photographs, paintings, emblems, katanas – not a square metre went uncovered. Looking at all this from behind the desk was a portly man, dressed in a sharp suit that did not really cover his bulging body. He was obviously of genuine Japanese descent, and peeked at the Captain over a tiny pair of glasses.

"Come closer," he said with a genial smile. "I am impressed to the lengths to which the Metroid has gone to Japanify their delivery man. Bravo! A bit of advice – the accent is a little overdone, and the sandals are unnecessary."

"It's no more overdone than yours, Samurai Goroh," said the Captain in his normal voice, ripping the cloth from his head. "You haven't lived on Terra for twenty-four years now."

The mayor's expression of surprise was soon replaced by one of joy. "Well well well! Douglas Jay Falcon! This is something of an embarrassment. The whole city was told that you were dead!"

"Your problem, not mine. You going to call your guards?"

Goroh shook his large head. "To do so would be foolish. Your Falcon Punch and Falcon Kick techniques are the stuff of which legends are made. I wish my brains and the wall to remain separate. Please." He indicated a chair. "Bring over your sake, and let us talk like gentlemen."

"I wouldn't if I were you," said the Captain, taking the chair. "It tastes like shit."

"Thank you for the warning." Goroh rummaged through the drawers in his desk. "Fortunately, I have some that does not… er… taste like shit. Will you partake?"

The Captain nodded silently, and Goroh decanted some of the small brown bottle into a glass. For a brief while there was no sound but those of pouring fluid and samisens strumming in the background.

"You've really put some regional colour into this place," said the Captain absent-mindedly.

"Well, I miss my home sometimes," said Goroh, filling his own glass. "You must know how it feels."

The Captain leaned over the table. "I want to have a little talk with Wolf O'Donnell. He has something I want."

"Wolf has many things many people want. Power, wealth, fame – and secrecy. You, Douglas, with your offshore fortress – you know the importance of secrecy, of being hidden. Wolf is hidden, Douglas, and he does not tell many people where."

"Rumour says he told you."

Samisens and Goroh downing his glass. The Captain took a small sip. It tasted foul. Perhaps the liquid in his flask was good quality after all.

"Rumour is an unreliable mistress, Douglas," said Goroh softly. "You should not trust it, especially in these times. For instance, one particularly popular rumour is that the LOVE will soon fall to a group of people called the LOL, with whom you are affiliated. Nonsense, I'm sure you'll agree."

More samisens. Goroh refilled his own glass and topped up the Captain's.

"However," he continued, "I might be willing to verify the truth of this particular rumour. But Wolf would be most upset if I let you just waltz into his hiding spot." The samurai sipped pensively. "I presume you have reclaimed your motor from our greedy clutches?"

The Captain said nothing. He merely stared, arms crossed, legs spread wide and crotch thrust forward.

"I'm sure you have by now. And so it is that I offer you a proposition. You and I, we will have a little race tomorrow. I hire out a racetrack and we go one-on-one. Three laps, standard rules. Relive the good old days, hurtling around the course, smashing our foes into the walls. If I win, I take you to Wolf. If you win, I take you to Wolf as my prisoner. How does that sound?" Goroh leaned in.

The Captain was incredulous. "Seriously? If I beat you in an F-Zero race you'll take me to Wolf?"

"Those are my terms, Douglas."

"Sure!" said the Captain, almost laughing. "Kicking your ass never gets old!"

Goroh beamed. "Excellent! Shall we say the Aero Dive racetrack, ten a.m.?"

"Well, we can't use Cylinder Wave, can we?"

"Douglas, no-one regrets what happened there more than I," said Goroh, looking into his sake glass. "But sadly, the Black Shadow had been causing trouble for the LOVE. Saying he refused to join forces and was going to take over the world himself. We had no choice but to drop the course from the air."

"And the stadium and upwards of a million spectators with it," said the Captain, gripping the glass very tightly. "Tell me, Samurai – how does that fit in with the Goroh family motto, 'Steal, but never kill'?"

"I have never killed anyone myself, Douglas!" laughed Goroh. "Not personally. Not except during the F-Zero races, where I will reckon that you have killed more than me! Isn't that so?"

The Captain put his glass down, untouched since the last top-up, and slowly stood up. His eyes never left Goroh's smiling visage for a second.

"I look forward to competing with you once again tomorrow, my old friend and rival," said Goroh, also rising and extending a hand. "Arigatou gozaimazu!"

The Captain turned and walked slowly towards the door, leaving the samurai's sweaty palm untouched.

"Whatever that means."

o o o

"He's ch-challenging you to a r-r-race? But he's beaten you like t-t-ten times t-total!"

"He's up to something," said the Captain, drinking something that was not quite a Red Gyarados but came close enough. "Goroh's not stupid. Not any more. He's all grown up."

Saki sipped at his glass. "Sh-shame you had to lose the c-c-costume. That headwrap looked g-g-good on you."

The Captain ground his teeth. The image of the sandals was engraved into his brain.

"So are you going to t-take him up on the offer?" Saki inquired.

"Of course! It'll take more than the threat of Goroh's IQ making it into double digits to put me off smashing him in a race!"

They drank in silence for a while. The Captain noticed Saki's shaking hand as the boy emptied the glass into his mouth. He wondered when Saki had started drinking seriously. Half a year, nine months? The boy topped up, while the man listened to the car horns and general traffic outside.

"Th-th-thought about where you're going to s-stay?" said Saki. "I can't reasonably let you s-s-sleep here. M-m-more than my job's worth."

"I just need a slot in the garage," said the Captain, with the first genuine smile of the evening. "I'll be sleeping in the comfiest bed there is."

o o o

Later that night, Captain Falcon sat in the dark concrete garage, looking out of the Blue/Silver Falcon. The heating hummed away in the background, keeping the Captain warm (although changing out of the shorts and bath towel helped), and the seat was a comfortable enough bed, but the Captain's mind refused to let him rest. He drummed his fingers against the glass and made shapes with his mouth. Every so often, he hit the side of the machine with his fist and groaned slightly.

All thoughts of Peach were forgotten; he could not even think about his car. His mind kept reverting to Cylinder Wave and what had happened there almost a year ago. Although the Captain had been well away from Port Town at that time, he had seen the broadcasts. The LOVE had been proud of the stadium's collapse, and used it as another propaganda element to terrify Nintendo's people into subjugation. It had shown and re-shown the event on state television, rejoicing in the screams, the fear, the explosions, the deaths, Wolf cackling from his viewpoint. It made the Captain want to heave.

Footsteps sounded from behind the car. One person, light build, running. Not a threat. The Captain looked in the rear view mirror and saw the slim form of Saki approaching, holding a long glowing object in his trembling hand. He lifted the lid and looked round.

"Douglas," said Saki, panting slightly, "there are s-s-suspicious figures outs-s-side. They've s-s-s…" He paused as the stutter choked him and tried again. "They've s-s-s-s-surrounded the hotel. M-m-might be nothing, but…"

"It's not going to be nothing," said the Captain, getting out. "Not tonight."

"There are about t-t-t-twenty of them! At least!"

The Captain cracked his knuckles. "Well, we should go see what they want."

Saki pushed a red switch on the wall, and with a mechanical grinding sound the garage door slowly slid upwards. It was barely open a crack when the first green lasers hissed under the door. The Captain pressed himself up against the wall and smiled across at Saki.

"You still good at shooting robots, kid?"

Saki smiled back. "I guess we'll f-f-find out."

The lasers stopped coming in, and one of the mayor's servants (without a French maid uniform, thankfully) slowly hovered in. It looked cautiously from side to side. "Hello," it called into the darkness. "Is anybody there?" The question was answered by the Captain's flaming boot hitting it in the back and propelling it into the garage wall.

"I'm here, bitch!"

It was indeed a sight to behold as the Captain ran through the network of lasers and homing rockets without taking so much as a scratch, leapt into the air and punched a robot to the floor in flames, then grabbed its charred carcass and threw it at another one before it so much as had a chance to mourn its friend. With barely a pause for breath, he sprang up again and kneed a third robot in its metal stomach, sending it flying into two of its brethren. Saki stayed in the garage doorway, strafing and firing at the androids with his luminescent object. His shots may have meandered on occasion, but the majority found their targets and blasted them fizzing from the air. When a few strayed too close, the glowing blade cleaved them cleanly in twain.

"Hey, Saki," said the Captain, using one robot as a footstool to reach and punch another, "got a joke for you. What do you get when you cross two robots?"

"Don't know!" shouted Saki over the gunfire.

"Neither do I! Let's find out!"

With the sound of a bird of prey, another metal unfortunate collided at high speed with yet another (while on fire).

"Huh. Apparently they explode. Not a great punch line."

The mop-up continued apace. What Saki had said constituted "at least twenty" robots was closer to fifty, but as far as he and the Captain were concerned that just meant more metal to clean up off the hotel grounds in the morning. As the guests and several bystanders stared on in astonishment, the last few robots were gunned or burnt down, or attempted to flee.

"Hey, Saki," said the Captain, as he punched in the head of the last remaining robot, "got another joke for you. These guys!"

o o o

The rain, it rained all the day. Big fat wet droplets flung themselves with gay abandon at the hovercars, the roads, the pedestrians, the buildings – anything they could, really, in a bout of futile kamikaze warfare. The sun, suffocated by a blanket of thick grey cloud, tried its best to peep down upon the Aero Dive F-Zero track, but the clouds were having none of it. Thus the waiting Samurai Goroh and his two robots were pelted by the podgy balls of water as ten o'clock struck on the large digital clock sticking up over what had once been the Port Town Stock Exchange, before the LOVE had nationalised every company worth buying shares in. The water ran down its digits like so many tears, as if the clock was weeping for its past.

A sleek silver vehicle hove into view and drew to a sharp stop in front of the mayor of Port Town, who was one of the few people who could recognise the car after its paint job, as well as the man who opened the lid.

"Ah, Douglas," said Goroh with great satisfaction. "Good to see you. I wondered whether you'd make it."

"Not gonna lie, Goroh – dick move, sending those robots to skew the race. Dick move."

Goroh laughed. "They had nothing to do with the race, Douglas! The robots were because of your impolite behaviour yesterday. I extend the hand of friendship, and you – how do you say it? Ah yes – leave me hanging."

"Better than dropping you from thirty thousand feet," said the Captain. "How was I meant to remain anonymous after that? Good thing the LOVE agents who arrived on the scene didn't recognise me, or I wouldn't have been able to race you today."

"Douglas, I…"

"I had to make a kid lie to the police, Goroh. I don't like making kids lie. So, we going to race or what?"

Without waiting for an answer, the Captain closed the Falcon's lid and drove off towards the starting grid. Goroh shook his head sadly and proceeded to the changing rooms.


	4. 1 Wrath ii

"WEEEEELcurm! To the RAYCE of the mil-LEN-ee-urm! This is gonna be the bestraceyou'veverseen RIGHT here on Port Town, Aaaaayrooooh Daaaaahve! From my post up here I can see thunderbolts, because the atmosphere in here is ee-LECTRIC! (That's despite the fact that there's nobody actually sitting in the stands.) SO, laaaaay-deez and gennulmen, get YOUR-selves ready for…"

From his spot on the starting line, the Captain could not stop cringing. The commentary was coming from a giant robot coloured grey and red, which was giving the report despite its head consisting of a box with two cameras fixed onto the front. The rain spilling off its metal did not seem to have dampened its enthusiasm, and it waved its gargantuan arms about madly as it rambled on in a well-synthesised human voice.

"…the challenger, fresh from being on the run and ready to take back his crown, CAP-TAIN FALCON!"

The Captain swore. He had had enough trouble maintaining anonymity last night, and now the robot's cries meant that the whole city knew of his existence. Part of Goroh's plan, no doubt. And what did it mean, "_take back_ his crown"?

"And against him, the mayor of this city, a popular and upstanding figure, now returning to the F-Zero circuit for the first time in over a year – SAM-UR-AIII GOROH!"

"YOOOOH!"

The roar came from somewhere to the Captain's right. In the wing mirror he saw the mayor, no longer dressed in his sharp suit – instead, he wore a brown jacket, sunglasses and a t-shirt with Japanese writing on. Shaggy black hair spilled out from underneath the racing helmet, bearing a rising sun motif. Unleashed from their smart clothing, his wet muscles glistened in the floodlights; unleashed from the need to stay respectable, his face was stretched into a wide triumphant grin. He swung the katana he held, performed two backflips and clambered into his vehicle, a pink craft with a flaming yellow motif.

"This is more like it, eh, Dugarasu?" he said, his Japanese accent now more pronounced and less refined. "I feel so much more comfortable dressed like this!"

The Captain faced stubbornly forwards. "Show-off."

"There's a ma-HOO-sive crowd gathered just outside the stadium now! They can't see what the HELL is going on, but they're not gonna let that stop them! Way to put en-THU-siasm over rational THOUGHT, guys!"

The robot said this as if it was actually a good thing. The Captain disagreed. A crowd? _Fuck._

"The start screens have dropped into position now. The drivers are crouched over their wheels…"

The communication screen flashed into life, and the samurai's wide grin flashed up.

"I've been waiting a long time for this, Dugarasu. Today is the day I kick your ass and make it cry like a little girl."

"That's more the Goroh I know and hate," said the Captain, smiling. "So," ("Three…") "what you done?" ("Two…") "Broken the track?" ("One…") "Hired snipers?"

ZOOM.

"And they're off!"

Goroh continued to talk, but the Captain was no longer paying attention. From the moment that his car passed the starting line, accelerating smoothly from stationary to upwards of 1000 kilometres per hour in under four seconds, everything else ceased to matter. For a brief moment, as the Blue Falcon (as it still was and always would be, paint job be damned) hummed smoothly underneath him, feeling like an extension of his own body, he could even forget his rage at Goroh and Wolf and everyone and everything. He was Captain Douglas Jay Falcon, and there was nothing but him, his car, his opponent – and the race.

"Sorry, Goroh, what was that? Can't hear you. Maybe you'd be able to speak more clearly if you wiped my dust out of your mouth."

As they descended the "steps" at the end of the first straight, it was true that the Captain had a slight lead. His ship's lighter weight allowed it to accelerate more quickly than the heavier Fire Stingray, but the Stingray's higher top speed would allow it to pull back in front – in theory. In practice, the Captain expected Goroh to make a fatal error.

"It's almost NECK AND NECK as the cars hit the SPEED BOOSTS that send them rrrr-ocketing towards the first bend in the track! The Bul-OO Falcon, sporting a flashy silver paint job, is JUST IN FRONT! But the FIII-YERRR STINGRAY…"

"I said that I looked over the entries for the race after the drop," repeated Goroh. "And I think I understand why you're so angry."

All the joy of the race seemed to filter out through the soles of the Captain's boots.

"So is this what it's about, Dugurasu? The girl Summer? You know, I had thought this was altruistic, righteous indignation over an oppressed people. Turns out it's just selfish lust."

"You shut up!" yelled Falcon at the monitor. "You've got no right to…"

The cars collided with a metallic crunch that sent the Falcon bouncing back and forward off the barriers, sparks flying, while the Stingray pulled far ahead. It was obvious that Goroh would ram his ship as soon as they drew level, and the Captain had hoped to capitalise on this. As it was, he had been distracted by the conversation and paid the price, the price being Goroh taking a massive lead, the car's shields dropping by almost half and the grin coming from the monitor growing by an inch. The Captain cursed inwardly. No more mistakes.

"…dropped WAY-EEE behind! Brilliant move from Goroh there, and he is now rrr-eaping the rewards out in FIRST PLACE!"

Goroh's taunts continued to issue through the monitor, directed both at the Captain and his ex-girlfriend. The Captain bore them no heed. He was in a private zone of his own, where he and the Blue Falcon, now humanoid and looking a lot like Jody Summer had done, were on their guitars and _rocking the fuck out_. Slowly, the car began to drift from side to side.

"The Captain seems to have gone PLUM CRAZY! His car's weaving ALL OVER the pla… Hang on… Has he Captain activated boost power? He shouldn't be able to do that until the second lap! No, wait – he's not boosting, but somehow he seems to have upped his speed…"

He and the machine – they were now one. One goal, one voice, one mind, and two beings. The car snaked in first one direction, then the other, all the time building and building speed and, in the Captain's zone, playing a bitchin' guitar solo. There was a loud boom as the car broke the sound barrier.

"What the hell are you doing?" said the Samurai, as the Falcon whizzed past. "That's not allowed!"

"You just made that rule up!" said the Captain, trying out some experimental harmonics.

"And the… er… the Blue Falcon's quite a way out in front now… er… bzzt… Yes… Quite a way indeed…"

As the first number came to an overdriven close, the Captain came out of the zone a bit and allowed himself to enjoy the robot's stuttering. Clearly programmed to give a balanced account of the match just so long as the possibility remained that Goroh might win, it was now thoroughly unsure of what to say.

"… er… He must have cheated somehow! Yeah! The Captain's cheated his way into a massive lead, and Goroh is now… er… Oh dear…"

The sonic boom behind the Captain told him what the robot's new dilemma was – Goroh was boosting. In the first lap.

"What's that about things being 'not allowed'?" the Captain asked the monitor.

Goroh did not reply. His teeth were gritted as his car bore down upon the Captain's like a charging rhinoceros, albeit one going at almost double the speed of sound and wearing some very brightly coloured pyjamas. With a push of a button, the Captain sent his own car into a 360º spin just as Goroh caught up, resulting in the Fire Stingray being thrown backwards and almost off the course.

"And the crowd is cheering for… erm… well, that is to say…"

The robot's eyes dimmed and its head fell forwards as someone somewhere turned it off, evidently feeling that its awkward acknowledgement that Captain Falcon was not only winning but the crowd favourite was not what the city needed to hear at this moment. It was for this reason that the Captain gave a sigh of relief as he reached the shield-recharging pit zone, rather than his car being enveloped in restorative energy. Now they could race in peace (sort of).

He sped across the finish line with a healthy lead over Goroh. Now he could legally use boost power, but the ability was a double-edged sword. Boosting drained power directly from the shield gauge, and once the shields were gone a light tap was enough at these speeds to reduce the car to a lump of fizzing molten metal. Goroh's ship was bulkier than his, giving the samurai some added leeway; the Blue Falcon needed all the shield power it could spare, especially as a glance in the rear view mirror told him that his pursuer was now equipped with rocket launchers.

"Pretty sure that's also cheating, Goroh," said Falcon, whacking the boost.

"Save your preaching for someone who gives a shit!"

The rockets whistled, hummed and exploded around the Falcon. A couple did hit their intended target, but they only gave the Falcon additional propulsion.

"I don't even need to boost," said the Captain, smiling. "Your rockets have the same effect."

"Yeah? Well, let's see if this has a different effect!"

He pressed a button. Nothing happened. The Captain hit the track after the massive jump that marked the mid-point of the lap without being blasted out of the air, or the track collapsing beneath him, or any adverse effects at all.

"That's it?" joked the Captain. "You're losing your touch! Not to mention the race if you carry on… like… oh Hands."

A huge, hulking form had just loomed into view from behind a skyscraper. Bulky yet sleek, it hovered stationary over the giant robot in the centre of the track. The robot's head lifted and it came back to life, but with a different voice – a gravelly drawl, arrogant and menacing.

"Attention, citizens of Port Town," it said. "I am pleased to welcome you to Captain Douglas Jay Falcon's funeral, here on the Port Town Aero Dive track! I'm Wolf O'Donnell, and I'll be your host for this morning. Now, without further ado, let's get this show on the road!"

The Captain prepared for the track to drop out from underneath his car. He had expected something like that, and was ready with a countermeasure. He was not ready for a barrage of yellow laser death from the Great Fox's main cannon, which is a shame because that was what he got.

Goroh's crackly laugh echoed through the monitor. "Say hi to Jody for me!"

"You dumb fuck!" yelled the Captain over the commotion. "If one of these blasts hits the track, we'll both be with her before we know it!"

The truth of this was visible on the samurai's face. As the yellow beams flashed around the track, managing to just about miss it every time, it contorted into an expression of extreme concentration.

"Kuso!" it yelled. "They know this might kill me. Why are they doing it?"

"You really are as thick as frozen spunk, aren't you? They don't give a damn what happens to you. None of them do. They just wanted someone greedy and easy to control to take charge of all the little jobs that needed doing, and you fit the bill perfectly."

They raced on in intense silence. (That is, silence relative to the engines' roar and the beams' "pew" sounds.) The beams continued to miss the track with unerring regularity.

"You're meant to be a crack shot with this thing," the robot said in Wolf's voice. "So why can't you hit it? It's not small, it's a fucking racetrack! Well don't bother aiming for the car; just shoot the whole thing out of the sky! Look, just… Just give it up, you're embarrassing yourself. Falco, get to the Arwing! Take him out at close quarters! No, McCloud, you _can't_ do it; you've been trying and missing for – is this thing still on?"

The robot's head dropped, as did the laser barrage. Goroh heaved a sigh of relief, but the Captain kept one eye solidly on the track ahead and the other on the Great Fox. So, they had Falco as well now? Damn. Should have known that four Arwings weren't enough to bring down the Great Fox. Mind you, that just left Wolf fresh for the Captain to dig into.

"The race is back on again, Dugurasu!" yelled Goroh.

"The race was never off, Samurai-u. I'm going to take down Team Wolf-fox and beat you to the end both at the same time."

The sound of a mechanised voice roaring "Yeah! Final lap!" aggravated the Captain's aural canals as he once more passed over the finish line. Before him, the final lap stretched out in all its glory. Behind him, Goroh caned the boost through the recharge zone as he attempted to keep up. Above him, barely visible, a small grey object split off from the Great Fox and, after a quick barrel roll, dived down towards the track.

Goroh's face on the communication monitor was replaced by that of a blue bird of prey, one the Captain had last seen on board the Halberd. The only difference was the shining blue eyes.

"There's only room for one bird of prey in this city, Captain," squawked Falco's clone.

"So fuck off then!"

The lasers came down thick and fast, like a neon-blue hailstorm. Fortunately for the man at the focal point of the precipitation, the Arwing's weaponry was significantly weaker than the mother ship's, and the few lasers that impacted with the vehicle only did minimal damage to the shielding. The Arwing attempted to charge its lasers, firing large blue balls of death, but these were slow to create and easily dodged despite their minimal homing capabilities.

"That all you got?" sneered the Captain, manoeuvring the Falcon to block Goroh as he tried to pass.

"Hold still and let me shoot you!"

The robot's eyes lit up again. "Falco, stop pussyfooting around with lasers and Smart Bomb them to hell!"

Falco rolled his cyan eyes. "You can sure be a pain in the neck, Wolf."

The red projectile travelled slower than the lasers and exploded "harmlessly" behind Goroh. "Harmlessly" means that the shockwave propelled both racers towards their windscreens and opened a gaping hole in the track. Falco cursed and peppered the Falcon with more lasers as it left the top of the midway jump, firing another explosive as it hit the bottom. The second bomb impacted with the track just behind the Falcon, once again opening up a massive hole – the Stingray, on its way down from the jump, barely managed to land on the other side of the gap.

"Hey, Einstein!" yelled Goroh, sweating like a teenager on a first date. "I'm on your side!"

"Save your breath!" shouted the Captain through the laser storm. "I already told you: they don't care about you!"

"I have abandoned my principles and my ideals to help them!" wailed Goroh. "Have they no concept of gratitude?"

"League of **Villains** Extraordinaire, Goroh! The clue's in the name!"

The third bomb swooped in, missing the Falcon by metres. The new hole in the track was between him and Goroh, and the samurai was going too fast to stop. As the screaming from his monitor increased in intensity, the Captain gave a long, heavy sigh and tapped away at his wrist device. He just hoped the tractor beam could cope with the Fire Stingray's extra weight.

Despite Goroh's manic braking, his pink bus of a car slid smoothly through the hole and down towards the ground below. It only fell a kilometre or so before it was brought to a sudden stop and hung in mid-air. Then it was slowly drawn back inside the Falcon Flyer, while Goroh panted and looked around himself frenetically.

"Hooray," said the Captain, as another Smart Bomb whistled past. "I win by default. And now, Falco, it's bird season."

While the Arwing, now out of Smart Bombs, continued to whittle away at the Captain's shields with its lasers, the Flyer slowly rose behind it, like a shark's mouth slowly rising behind a swimmer in a bad film about sharks eating swimmers. All of a sudden, a multitude of shots rang out, and Falco found himself missing a wing and smouldering slightly.

"The Arwing might not make it!" he moaned, curving away from the track.

With a light tap of the boost button, the Captain sailed over the finish line for the third time. As he did so, despite all that had just occurred, the rush came back to him – that rush he used to get after zooming over the finish line at the end of a hard-fought Grand Prix, just ahead of everyone else, nabbing the trophy from under Goroh's or Black Shadow's nose. He thought that he heard cheering in his peripheral auditory range – maybe the crowd outside had found monitors displaying the race? He wanted to get out of his ship, to raise his hands to his invisible crowd, to bathe in a shower of champagne and gratefully accept the trophy from a fit race babe… But no. Even as these thoughts passed through his head, the Great Fox began its descent towards the track, reminding him that he had other things to take care of first. Besides, there was a total lack of champagne, trophies or fit race babes. Shame.

The Falcon Flyer soared overhead, grabbing his car in the tractor beam and hoisting it up into the ship, where it pushed the Stingray to one side. Piloting the Falcon out of the tractor area, leaping from the cockpit and jumping over to the Flyer's controls, the Captain saw the Stingray's pilot sitting in the corner, picking his nose.

"You saved me," said Goroh without emotion. "I tried to kill you, and you saved me. Do you have any idea of how humiliating that is?"

"Then go commit seppuku," said the Captain, turning the Flyer around and zooming towards the side of the grounds.

The damaged Arwing docked with the Great Fox, now in hot pursuit of the Flyer.

"I'm sorry, Captain," said the samurai. "For everything. Once again, another stupid plan to defeat you fails miserably. I thought…"

"I don't care why, and your apology's too late. You can't bring her, or any of them, back."

"I can…"

"I'm dropping you off here," said the Captain, hovering over the road. "You want to do something for me? Go down the Metroid and tell the blonde kid to make the best Red Gyarados substitute he's ever made in all his life. 'Cause when I get back, I'm gonna drink it up."

The samurai smiled, a wraith of a smile that could have been blown away by a slight gust. He clambered back into the Stingray, which dropped out of the Flyer and down onto the road. The Captain's face remained grim as he observed the Great Fox bearing down on him, its laser cannons glowing ominously yellow.

"Wolf O'Donnell, it's time you and I had a little chat."

o o o

Wolf O'Donnell, the bipedal lupine with the intimidating spiky armour, equally intimidating cybernetic eye-patch, even more intimidating hand-held laser cannon (with bayonet) and almost as intimidating tuft of white hair, was pacing his room in the Great Fox, whimpering like a puppy.

He picked up his cigarette and puffed on it twice. Then he put it down in the ashtray and paced around the shiny room. Then he picked it back up and drew on it while pacing. Then he flung the cigarette in the bin with a howl and sat in his chair, drumming agitatedly with his fingers on the arms. Then he fumbled with his cigarette packet, eventually withdrawing one precious ash stick, dropping it, scrambling around on the floor to find it, dragging it out from under a desk, taking three tries to get a flame from his lighter, burning his thumb, dropping both lighter _and _cigarette, retrieving them both from under the same desk and finally lighting up. Then the process, or at least one very similar to it, began again.

It was not that he was afraid of the Captain boarding his vessel, oh no! Even if he did get past the Great Fox's cannons and the two Project Z clones on board, he had to deal with him, Wolf. A feared bounty hunter, rival of Fox McCloud and now member of the LOVE High Council, Wolf was one of the most battle-hardened fighters the galaxy had ever seen. He was a lethal fighter, both at close range and from a distance. He had no reason to be afraid of… Ah, who was he kidding? He was petrified.

The Captain may have been scary, but it was not this that terrified Wolf so much as that Wolf was afraid of most things. After betraying his old comrades, Team Starwolf, and having them executed shortly after joining the LOVE, Wolf had suffered from chronic and damaging paranoia. Visits to a psychiatrist had not helped, and the paranoia had spiralled out of control and become irrational fears of just about everything. Spiders, knives, malevolent-looking plants, mice with a nasty glint in their eyes – you name it, it could make Wolf jump and bite at his claws. Even worse was his tendency to scream like a little girl when something truly terrifying hove into view. Fortunately, as the governor of Port Town, he was usually spared anything properly frightening, right up until Goroh's phone call to him yesterday afternoon telling him of the location of Captain Douglas Jay Falcon. The resulting girly scream had echoed throughout his hidden mansion.

He took a big gasp of nicotine and activated the bridge communication channel. "Fox, has the guy been taken care of yet?" No answer – just the sound of the radio playing in the background. "Fox, where the hell are you? Fox? Fox!"

"Fox here."

It was an incredible feat, and one that, had Wolf been taking part in the Olympics, would have won him the high jump if not the pole vault. It was accompanied by what might have set the Guinness Nintendo Record for the longest and highest squeal of terror if such a thing existed. The cause of these astonishing demonstrations of what the human/ anthropomorphic animal frame could be made to achieve were caused by the sudden appearance of Captain Falcon in the doorway, with two blasters and a small hexagonal device stuffed into his belt.

In his hand he held a bipedal vulpine, dressed in smart if somewhat crumpled armour with glimmering blue eyes. The fox cowered away from the Captain's free hand with terror, terror that only abated when the free hand grabbed the fox's neck and squeezed it. There was a horrible cracking sound, and the former pilot of the Great Fox was floating away in purple mist.

"And now he's not," said the Captain, his eyes fixed on the shivering lupine. "Falco's dead too. Stupid bastards thought attacking me two on one would give them a better chance. I proved them wrong."

Wolf attempted to pull himself together. He was aware that any attempt at seeming like the fearless bounty hunter he made himself out to be was probably futile, but he was determined to make the best of a bad situation. He straightened himself up, crossed his arms and smirked, at the same time slowly pacing backwards from the Captain.

"The great Captain Douglas Jay 'Show Me Yo' Moves' Falcon has returned home at last," he said, trying to control the pitch of his voice. "Got to say, I'm surprised that you came back. Even if you weren't signing your death warrant by appearing here, surely all the voices of the fallen must haunt your dreams…"

The Captain snarled and fired both blasters. Wolf's hand flew to a device on his back, creating a pink ring of energy around him that reflected the beams back at the Captain. The racer barely had time to drop to the floor before the lasers reached him, giving Wolf time to dash towards the back of the room.

"So, want to play rough, eh?" he sneered, pressing a red button as he left. "Well, catch me if you can!"

"What's the matter, Wolf?" yelled the Captain after him. "Scared?"

He prepared to run after his fleeing foe, but was prevented by the sudden descending of what looked like a massive white mask from the ceiling, which fell to earth with a metallic "thunk".

"Yes, definitely scared."

A single Falcon Punch smashed the distraction into its component parts. Squeezing his way through the metallic innards of the mask and the door behind, the Captain found himself in a massive hangar. The sheer scale of the Great Fox was hard to appreciate until one got right up next to it or inside it – the ship was immense, as might well be expected for a carrier that had to carry a space-faring team of mercenaries and all their equipment/vehicles through space for months at a time. And inside this hangar, where Arwings, tanks and submarines were stored when not in use, the search for Wolf might have been long and difficult, were it not for the massive giveaway clue.

"Wolf, I can see your smoke."

"Fuck!"

Wolf leapt onto the tank he was hiding behind and assumed the driving position. As the Captain ran over to the vehicle, all red decoration and sharp angles, lights started turning on and engines starting humming, echoing around the cavernous expanse of the hangar. Wolf slowly aimed the tank's cannon at the charging pilot to the grinding of gears, and pressed "Fire".

The laser was immense. Many times more powerful than the Arwing's blasts, it emerged as a beam of pure power that struck the Captain square in the chest, threw him across the hangar and pinned him to the wall, hissing and yelling in pain. When it subsided, the Captain fell to the ground, sizzling slightly. Wolf immediately capitalised on the advantage and followed it up with several more blasts, about half of which hit the fallen man and played rag-doll physics with his body. After the cannon stopped firing, the only sound left in the hangar was the quick shallow breathing of Wolf.

Ever cautious, he slowly climbed out of the tank, and spent several moments watching the body for signs of life. Daring at last to give a short laugh, Wolf unhooked his blaster from his belt and, running over to the Captain, peppered his body and the area around it with shots. The Captain's fallen form gave no response, apart from smelling a bit charred when Wolf got close. Poking the fallen man with the gun's bayonet, Wolf was finally convinced enough of the man's death to give a victory howl.

"How the mighty have fallen!" shouted Wolf to the corpse. "Captain Falcon, member of the dreaded League of Legends, lying dead on the floor like the rest of my crew! Poor Douglas, come back home hoping to be a hero, to avenge his murdered girlfriend, only to be blasted to death by a cowardly bounty hunter! How pathetic! Port Town doesn't need a saviour like you!"

"Silence, devil."

Wolf looked into the man's furious face with horror, his scream stuck in his throat. Then he ran back to his tank, checking behind him in case Falcon was following. He was not – he simply got up, his fists burning, and stood stock still, his eyes following the retreating lupine.

"You don't belong in this city. You've stolen upwards of a million innocent lives in your greedy quest for power. Well, I've got news for you, Wolf – it all ends today, right here, right now. Because I am Captain Douglas Jay 'Show Me Yo' Moves' Falcon, and now, Wolf…"

Wolf had found his voice, and yelped frantically as he retook the controls of the tank.

"…I'm going to show you my moves."

Another blast came towards the Captain, but this time he calmly pressed a button on the hexagonal device he had taken from Fox and was briefly surrounded by a field of blue energy. Like Wolf's pink shield before, it sent the laser straight back at its source, shattering the tank's cannon and producing another ear-pacing wail from Wolf, who was trying to drive and set up another cigarette at the same time. Then the Captain charged again.

"Why don't you show me yours, Wolf?"

Finally puffing away once more, Wolf sent the tank flying up into the air, where it hovered briefly above the Captain before smashing down heavily. It was a shot in the dark, and indeed Wolf saw the Captain double-jump smoothly up onto the cockpit, whence he stared at Wolf through the glass screen.

"Go ahead, Wolf. Do a barrel roll. See where it gets you."

The tank did a quick 360-degree roll which the Captain jumped smoothly over. As it re-emerged from its acrobatics right side up, the Captain hung in the air for a moment, before yelling "Falcon Kick!" and going into a flaming dive that ended with a slight explosion coming from the outside of the tank.

"Useless!" laughed Wolf, a bit of his cockiness returning. "The Landmaster has shields even the Master Hand couldn't break!"

"I tell you what, Wolf," said the Captain, staring back as calmly as he could. "I'm a bit of an expert when it comes to vehicles. I can sum one up in less time than it takes you to fire a blaster shot. And while this is a beautiful vehicle, it has one glaring weakness."

Wolf looked perturbed, but after quickly checking his displays and seeing nothing amiss snarled and went into another somersault, which the Captain jumped away from.

"I'll leave you to think about what it is."

Wolf applied the speed boosters and attempted to ram the Captain, who evaded the charge. The Landmaster turned to follow and boosted again, this time almost catching the Captain beneath its tyre treads – it took an evasive dodge-roll to avoid the quickly moving tank.

"Damn thing's going foggy!" growled Wolf.

The tank turned again, and from within the cockpit the Captain could hear Wolf's hacking cough. The next charge bypassed the Captain completely, swerving to one side and crashing into a wall as he looked on. Wolf's cough was getting worse but fainter. The Captain hopped up onto the crashed tank and looked in through the screen, where he saw… not much.

"Rrrrh! Whht hvve yuu dnne?"

"Can't really hear you in there, Wolf. You're going to have to pop your head out if you want to speak to me. Oh, and if you want to avoid choking to death after I broke the ventilation."

"Crrse yuu!"

The Captain sat cross-legged on the tank, looking without emotion at the smoggy interior and listening to Wolf gasping for breath. It was not long before the grey furry head popped out, coughing and panting, activities that were made substantially harder after the Captain grabbed his throat.

"Well looky here."

"Careful, Captain," wheezed Wolf. "You don't want to get…"

The blaster whipped upwards, was wrestled easily out of Wolf's limp hand and ended up rudely tossed into the depths of the hangar. The rest of Wolf's limp body was tugged out of the ship, the Captain grabbing both of the animal's arms so that he could use neither the reflector shield on his back, nor his sharp claws.

"…hurt, were you going to say?"

Wolf's face rapidly cycled through shock and pain via pant-wetting fear to an attempt at a smile, spoilt somewhat by repeatedly coughing black spit into the Captain's face.

"Not at all!" he croaked. "Please, let me finish! I was gonna say, 'You don't wanna get me wrong!' I'm not such a bad guy really! I mean, take the whole Cylinder Wave thing for instance."

The Captain drew back one fist. Wolf now had free use of one of his paws, but he was too terrified to realise this.

"Whoa whoa whoa, let's chill here! Hear me out! I mean, the Cylinder Wave thing was awful, wasn't it? So many innocent lives lost! I thought so too! That's why I said…"

Flames sprang up around the fist. Sweat sprang up around the tuft.

"…why I said to **Ganondorf**, yeah, to Ganondorf, that it's a bad idea! And to Bowser, and to Goroh – no, first to Goroh! I mean, it was all his idea in the first place! He said…"

"Falcon…"

"…he said to Ganondorf who said to Bowser and then they all told me and then I'm like 'hey no way!' honestly man we're cool we're brothers I feel your pain DON'T KILL ME IT WAS ALL GOROH I SWEAR"

"PAWNCH!"

o o o

Vision clouded by a thick mist. Ears ringing. Unpleasant sweet taste in the mouth. Entire body screaming out in pain. But still…

"I… I'm… alive?"

Voice sounds strange, hoarse, distant. Hurts to force words out. Slow opening of eyes, rebelling every step of the way. In the mist, a shady figure looms, its eyes and hands burning with fierce flame. As the fog clears, its form becomes more definite, an effigy of rage against the boundaries of vision.

"Captain? You let me live! Thank…"

A voice like thunder against sensitive, battered ears: "If I'm not much mistaken, I've broken both your legs."

"Really?" Slight laugh, forced, fake, painful. "Well, I deserved it, didn't I? After the awful, awful things I've done. Still, I know that now. I've learned my lesson, and you've had your revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge." Sweet like the taste of blood. "And I'm so grateful to you for not killing me. So, so grateful. Now, if you could just give me a hand to get up…"

"How much fuel does this ship have left? Do you know?"

Brain hurts enough without trying to remember figures. Like a throbbing orb of pain inside the confines of the skull. Throbbing everywhere else too. Especially the chest…

"Because I don't think it's that much. Ganondorf took care of the Fox after you captured it until the clone was made, and he can't refuel it 'cause he knows jack shit about technology. And I bet you he didn't get the clone to top it up.

"Now, we're on autopilot, hovering more than thirty thousand feet above sea level. Not the most fuel-consuming activity, true, but it's still using fuel, right until the tank runs dry. And what will happen then?"

Realisation dawns, like a huge hairy spider crawling up the bed.

"Oh yeah – the ship will plummet thirty thousand feet, killing everyone on board. Just you, then. Hang on – doesn't this situation sound familiar?"

A slow, painful moan. Chest _really_ stings.

"Of course, I might be wrong. Maybe there's enough fuel left in the tank for you to slowly, painfully drag yourself all the way to the control deck, and then try to land the ship you've never flown before. That would probably have the same result, to be honest. Or you might die of dehydration or blood loss before either of those happens."

Trying to speak now. Mouth doesn't want to move, throat doesn't want to utter.

"Not that it matters to me. Jody Summer, Pico, Mighty Gazelle, even Black Shadow – all those racers and spectators – their cruel fates are avenged. You will die, alone and suffering. My work here is done."

The figure slowly turns and starts to walk away. The body has to pull together now.

"W-wait! You help me, and I'll help you. I can tell you all about the LOVE, their plans, about Project Z, about where the heroes are, all the things about the Cylinder Wave incident no-one talks about…"

Still walking away.

"No, please, come back! How about the SubSpace Key? That's what brought you here, isn't it? The possibility of surviving the final confrontation? I know where it is! If you leave me to die, you'll never find it!"

Without turning around: "Yes, I wanted that originally. But leaving you to perish is more fun. Ciao."

There must be something else. Lying back, turning to the sky, trying to force a feverish brain to process ideas, and the only one that comes out: "Have mercy on me! Pleeeeease!"

The figure stops. Its face turns. The eyes cold, grey, no flicker of humanity or compassion, staring into the soul.

"Jody, forgive me for what I am about to do. I may well live to regret it."

Hope.

o o o

That evening, the Captain and Saki sat in the Metroid, the Captain gulping down a Red Gyarados imitation and Saki glaring at his yellow beverage. The atmosphere was almost the same as the night before – the differences were that most looked at the Captain with a hint of awe, and that the one man who did not, the same musical alcoholic, had a friend. His arm was stretched around a burly Japanese fellow, who sipped his sake with a melancholy expression, and he was telling his new acquaintance in song form about how he had been a doctor, then a racer, and now a dropout.

"Almost like the real thing," said the Captain with an approving nod. "You're getting better, Saki."

"How **could** you?" yelled Saki suddenly, slamming his glass down and making the clientele jump en masse. "How could you let that piece of shit go? Why didn't you finish him when you had the chance? That son of a bitch!"

"That is one of the side effects of being a wolf," said the Captain calmly. "And you may want to keep the volume down. Officially, Port Town is still LOVE-run."

"If it had been me," hissed Saki menacingly, "I'd have taken his blaster-bayonet, slit his throat and rubbed his face in the blood."

"Wolf has lung cancer."

The malice vanished from the boy's face, replaced by a look of out-and-out astonishment.

"Is that so surprising?" said the Captain. "He's been a chain smoker for Hands know how long. When I dropped him off at the hospital, he complained of chest pain, they did an x-ray and found some nice juicy tumours on his lungs. 50% chance of survival, but either way he's going to be in a hell of a lot of pain and undergo some nasty chemo." He smiled slightly. "He's going to be completely bald."

The Captain leaned back and fiddled idly with the golden key while Saki sat with his mouth gormlessly open.

"Oh," the boy said at last. "Huh."

"At first, I had another plan," said the Captain. "I was going to strip him naked, hang him up by his dick from a lamp-post in the town square and let every person who lost a loved one in the Cylinder Wave incident punch him. Starting with me." His fists flared up briefly.

"So why didn't you?"

"He's screwed himself over more than I ever could. He's smoked himself almost to death, he bumped off his only friends, he's lost his mayor and possibly only ally… Stupid animal. Plus…"

"Plus?"

"I'd have to touch a furry's dick. Like, ew."

The drunken man had resumed his customary position on the floor. The samurai bent down and patted his head.

"So, you g-going back to Hyrule soon?" asked Saki. "I'd like it if you could s-stay around for a bit."

"I've got five days before I've got to meet the others. I'll stay here for a bit, make sure Goroh sets up the monument to the Cylinder victims right, maybe visit my fortress." He gave the Japanese man a meaningful look, then turned back to Saki and smiled. "This place has good memories as well as bad ones. Some day, when this is all over, I'll come back here properly. We'll drink and laugh about all this." He took the boy's glass from slender unwashed fingers. "In the meantime, you need to come off the booze and pull yourself together. I may need your help some time soon."

"D'you th-think it will ever be over?" said Saki glumly. "I s-sometimes get the feeling the LOVE will n-never go away, that we'll be enslaved by them for ever. Wolf may be out for the count, but s-someone else will just appear in his place, and then…"

The Captain leaned across and put a powerful hand on the boy's bony shoulder.

"Saki, I'm Captain Douglas Jay 'Show Me Yo' Moves' Falcon. I've won the F-Zero Grand Prix more times than anyone in the race's long history, as well as being one of the most successful bounty hunters ever on the side. My Falcon Punch makes grown men crap themselves in fear, and women swoon at my feet. I am an enigma, a powerhouse and one of the only people capable of downing a Red Gyarados in the world. And I am about to infiltrate the LOVE's most important stronghold, and I'm bringing my fists with me."

"S-so…"

The Captain upended his glass into his mouth, finished it and slammed it down on the table so hard that it made a sizeable dent in the metal. The glass did not have a chance.

"So YES!"

o o o

Well, Jody, you finally have your memorial. It's not much – just a small obelisk with some wreaths. And a little statue of the vehicles. And, after I threatened to beat Goroh to a pulp, your name's in gold writing. Like I said, it's not – wait, forgot the ten vases of flowers. Like I said, it's not much, but it's something.

I hope you feel that I've avenged you, Jody. I realise I didn't do as much as I could. The fact that I let that dick/lamp-post/punching idea slip by bothers me occasionally. But then, you weren't really a vengeful person. I like to think you'd approve of what I did. (At least, you weren't vengeful apart from to me when I stared at other girls' boobs. Yeah, then you were vengeful.)

Yesterday I took my last look around Port Town. I went back to your apartment – somebody else lives there now, but I sat outside the door for a bit and thought of all the good times. Okay, you nagged me a lot, and you got pissed off when I did stupid things like forget your birthday or flirt with others girls or pinch your ass in public. But there were so many more good things to think about. Do you remember the time when you got trapped in that exploding building, and we had to escape in the Falcon? I was like "Argh!" and you were like "Argh!" and then I was like "Yeah!" and you were like "Yeah!" and that other guy who liked you was like "Yeah!" and you were like "No" and he was like "Aww." Good memories, Jody, good memories. This city's full of 'em.

Well, Jody, it's time for me to move on now. From the city, and from you. I've found another girl, and she likes me, and I like her, and unlike you she's not dead. I hope you don't mind.

You know, I've never believed in heaven, or a god, or anything before. But I like to think that one day we'll meet again, and we'll sit down by the fire and swap stories of the good times we had and what happened after we parted ways. Wouldn't that be nice? You're going to have to wait, though. Douglas Falcon has a lot of things to attend to in this world before he moves onto the next one.

Well, see you around, Jody. Hope death's treating you well. I'll be thinking of you.

Man, that exploding building thing was classic.

**2**

**1 ****And the Master Hand did create for itself a place beyond the reach of any mortal man, and sealed it with a great gate. And it did call this gate the Gate of Souls, for it was an impressive sounding name. ****2 ****And it did call the place behind the gate the Final Destination, for that was also an impressive sounding name. ****3 ****And it saw that all was well, and then it rested.**

**4 ****And it did so happen that one day, a hero did enter the Gate of Souls. And he was bold, and daring, and he had a pure heart and would not bow to any tyrant. ****5 ****And the Master Hand did say unto him, "How the fuck did you get in here?" ****6 ****And the hero did not reply directly, but did instead challenge the Master Hand to a battle. And the Master Hand accepted. **

**7 ****And the battle was long and tiring, and both participants battled hard, but in the end the hero was victorious. ****8 ****And as the Master Hand lay there, exhausted, it did say, "How can this be? I am effectively the god of this world! Or as near as damnit." ****9 ****And it did say unto the hero, "You have fought well. Please accept this replica of yourself as a trophy of your victory." And it presented the hero with a life-size replica on a golden stand. ****10 ****And then it did wipe the hero's memory of this event and placed him far away, so that he would not tell anyone of what he had seen.**

**11 ****And this did happen many times over the years with various different heroes. And it did piss the Master Hand off so much you have no idea.**


	5. 2 Gluttony i

**§2 Gluttony**

Many think that Yoshis are extraordinary in their ability to lay eggs irrespective of the sex of the Yoshi. This is not the case – the "eggs" the male Yoshi lays can never ever hatch. What actually happens is that when a Yoshi wishes to defaecate, it encases the waste matter in a hard outer shell for reasons science remains unsure of. Thus anyone who wishes to have hard-boiled Yoshi eggs for tea and takes them from a male Yoshi is likely to get a nasty shock once they see the "yolk". A further puzzlement for science is how some Yoshis manage to produce enough of the "eggshell" material to surround their entire body, giving the Yoshi vastly increased speed. But science is busy enough trying to figure out why Pokémon can be transferred as digital information and how Zelda can produce fire from her fingertips by calling for it. Science works slowly on Nintendo.

This is in stark contrast to Yoshi, who managed to roll in thirty-five hours from the desert between Hyrule and the Mushroom Kingdom all the way southeast to the place where Eagleland, Hyrule and the mountain range to the north of Kanto all met in a great big hodgepodge of nationalities. That included the time needed to sleep and steal some fruit from various Hylian shops. Try rolling from near the French/English Channel to the Mediterranean in a zorb in the same time frame and you will have some idea of what he did. Oh, and the zorb must be nearly opaque, almost rigid and only slightly bigger than yourself.

Reaching the meeting place at eleven at night, he slept at the foot of the mountains before setting off again in the morning along the mountain range. His sense of smell penetrated the shell better than his sight did, allowing him to stop near fruit trees (here, just outside Kanto, berry trees were common) and fill his quickly emptying belly. Had a LOVE agent wished to tail him, it need only have followed the trail of stripped trees. Fortunately, there was no such LOVE agent, and Yoshi reached the foot of the Kanto-Eagleland pass they had used earlier by mid-morning.

Once again, his excellent sense of smell came into play. It was not the first path up the mountains he had stopped at, smashing out of his shell, sniffing the earth and then carrying on his way. At this one, however, Wario's scent still lingered a week after they had left Kanto by this route. Yoshi gave a squeak of satisfaction (or a cry of dismay) and began to jog up the mountain pass.

And what kept him going along this long and tiring journey? What thoughts did he occupy himself with during the twenty-seven hours he spent in an eggshell, rolling along, and now that he was running through the mountains? What staved off the intense boredom, and the even more intense loneliness? Yoshis are social creatures, living together in groups and doing all their daily activities ensemble. The past few weeks, with no Yoshi company, had been hard enough to bear.

His rumbling belly and when he would next get to fill it was always a concern, of course. He worried about his companions, especially Peach, who had sometimes remembered to treat him as more than a dumb animal. He worried about the heroes, held captive by the LOVE in whatever the "Dark Prison" was. He worried about anyone and anything being oppressed by the LOVE, open-hearted creature that he was.

But most of all, he worried about his people. A sole bastion of resistance in a world taken over by the LOVE (not counting the recently liberated Eagleland), having already fought off an invasion attempt by Bowser it was bound to be targeted in future LOVE attacks. The Yoshis were spirited fighters, but should the might of the LOVE army fall on them the survival of the island was in significant doubt. He felt guilty about leaving them at such an important time, and this gave him extra resolve to finish his current task as quickly as possible.

As he ran along the mountain path, he stopped and looked down the mountains. The massive forms of two of the Pokémon that had attacked them here a week ago still lay on the mountainside, moaning slightly. The third, giant sky serpent and LOVErnor of the Pokémon regions Rayquaza, was nowhere to be seen. Yoshi pressed onwards.

Finally, just as a gentle rain began to fall, he saw a little clearing with a decrepit shop, some rickety benches and several rock caves. With a leap of joy, and barely stopping to help himself to some nearby Leppa Berries, he ran down the path towards it.

o o o

Inside one of the caves, an inflatable pink ball gently placed three wet sponges on three feverish brows lying on beds of moss. By its side, a tall man in grey with unkempt hair shook their blankets out, his eyes wandering to and fro. The pink ball began to sing a cheery melody in an oddly soothing tone.

"Jigglypuff, please don't sing," said its companion. "It makes me drowsy, and I've already slept for twelve hours today."

Jigglypuff shrugged as best it could with no shoulders and bustled out of the door. It nearly bumped into the dozy green dinosaur as he collapsed into the cave.

"Yoshi?"

The man in grey ran stiffly towards the entrance, crouching down by the new arrival. Yoshi opened a tired eye and squeaked.

"I'm fine, I guess," said the man in perfect Yoshi. "I don't dare venture far outside the clearing, so I've been living on berries and supplies from the old shop, and my clothes _stink_."

Yoshi took a sniff and woke up directly, grasping his nose in his hands.

"Granted, it's not as revolting as Wario," he said, "but you do smell atrocious. Who's that reclining in the back?"

The man in grey took Yoshi towards the rear of the cave, where bioluminescent fungi supplemented the small amount of daylight that reached that far. Lying on the moss were a blue lupine, a purple feline and a yellow head with spiky ears, attached to a disproportionately tiny body.

"You remember Mewtwo and Lucario, right?" said the man, indicating the cat and the jackal. "Lucario got attacked by Rayquaza's squadrons while helping you to escape, and Mewtwo hasn't recovered from blowing itself up on Rayquaza."

"If it soothes its mind, neither have Groudon and Kyogre," said Yoshi. "They both remain on the mountains, moaning at intervals."

Indeed, the sleeping cat's face did seem to smile slightly.

"Lucario wakes up occasionally," continued the man, "but Mewtwo's out for the count. Same with the Pichu. You remember Waluigi and his Pikachu? The one cloned from the Pokémon Champion's?"

Yoshi did. Wario's gangly purple brother had set the yellow rodent (or rather, the yellow rodent clone) on the LOL as they ran from this hut a week ago. Jiggypuff had prevented the pursuit at the cost of some minor charring – impressive, given that the Pokémon Champion was the best Pokémon trainer in the world.

"I reckon she's the Pikachu's daughter, out searching for her daddy. Bumped into the clone, tried to cuddle up and got a nasty surprise. Poor girl."

The man stroked the large head, which shivered slightly under his touch. Then he looked at Yoshi sadly.

"What is amiss, Snake?" asked Yoshi.

"You know how Lucario can use his aura to communicate with faraway people? He told me the news about your island. I'm sorry, Yoshi."

Yoshi was about to ask "What news?" but stopped. Snake's cold grey eyes were unusually warm, his stony glare softened. Yoshi felt a huge black weight where his insatiable stomach usually resided.

"Oh no…"

"You didn't know?" said Snake, trying to think of something comforting to say. He settled on, "Bowser took it over a while ago. I'm sorry."

Yoshi turned away quickly and stumbled outside, Snake staring after him. He never was very good at consoling people.

"It is only to be expected," "said" a blue sensation in Snake's head. "He no doubt feels that it is all his fault."

Snake looked at the jackal, whose red eyes had opened, and then out of the cave at the dinosaur, hunched over and with his head (mostly consisting of nose) in his hands.

"Go with him, Snake," said Lucario, raising himself unsteadily. "I am almost cured, and Jigglypuff is completely capable of taking care of the other two. You have looked after us for long enough."

Snake continued to observe Yoshi uncertainly.

"I see your aura, Snake. It is filled with wanderlust. It longs to do something. You are wasted here, sleeping twelve hours a day, restlessly pacing the clearing, longing to do something, go somewhere.

"Plus, you really are starting to stink."

o o o

"Well? How do I look?"

Yoshi turned his head with a mournful gaze towards Snake, who had just returned from the mountains. Jigglypuff had taken him to a recently discovered spring, into which he had dived gratefully. He and his clothes were now soaking wet, and his long uncut hair was dripping.

Yoshi nodded distractedly. "Very nice."

"It's not very nice. My hair and beard still need a trim. On the other hand, I don't look like me any more, and I'm finally clean."

"Yes, yes you are."

Snake sat down next to the lizard, attempting to squeeze his hair dry.

"I can guess how you're feeling," he said. "You're upset because you feel like you let your people and your island down. And I don't blame you. After all, you might have saved your people had you only remained on the island! You could single-handedly have taken on Bowser's forces and forced them to leave! You could have wrestled Bowser himself to the ground, pushed him into the sea and…"

"It sounds so stupid when you say it," said Yoshi.

"Really?"

"All right," said Yoshi, turning to Snake. "What if it turns out that they fell because they lacked leadership? What if my second-in-command was unable to direct operations sufficiently? Or what if there was a point in the confrontation at which one tactical decision from me could have changed the outcome?"

"Or what if you lost the first round of the battle, and then when you had the chance to turn the tide you sat around moping 'cause you'd lost the first round instead of fighting in the second, and so you got thrashed?"

Yoshi opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again. He turned his head on one side. He blinked rapidly. Then he turned back to Snake.

"What are you trying to say?" he asked.

Snake grabbed Yoshi and pulled him up. "I'm saying your people need you to act, dumbass. You're coming with me, and we're going to tear the LOVE a new one."

Yoshi was too stunned to argue as Snake frog-marched him to the cordons barring entry to the plaza, where an inflated Jigglypuff was supporting a wounded Lucario.

"Arceus bless you both," Lucario said, putting a glowing hand on Yoshi's nose. "May your auras shine brightly and lead you to glory!"

Jigglypuff waved a stumpy pink arm, said "Puff!" happily and deflated, nearly causing Lucario to topple over it.

"Now, hold on a minute," said Yoshi. "I haven't recovered from my depression yet!"

"Plenty of time for that on the road," said Snake, pushing aside the cordons and marching Yoshi into the caves of Mount Moon. "We're going now!"

The two vanished into the darkness of the caves, Yoshi still looking stunned. Lucario bowed his head again, before allowing Jigglypuff to guide him back to the cave.

"So, Yoshi," came Snake's voice, "where are we going again?"

o o o

Pokémon trainers can be broadly grouped into several varieties. There are the Hikers, who spend their time climbing mountains, plodding along rocky roads and fighting with tough rock-type Pokémon. There are Psychics, who have (or believe they have) extra-sensory perception, telekinesis and the like, and who favour psychic-type Pokémon. There are Guitarists, who like to play music by plugging their guitars directly into their electric-type Pokémon outside battle. Huge generalisations, of course, but the guild system in operation throughout the Pokémon nations meant that someone who signed up as a Guitarist would get help from his fellow Guitarists and so on. Those who belonged to no guild were just known as "trainers".

Crissy was a Lass. The guild of Lasses consisted mostly of teenage girls who favoured cute Pokémon and liked to enter them in beauty contests as much as battling. They also talked about make-up, clothes and hot guys. Crissy's favourite Pokémon was an insect taken over by a large parasitic mushroom; even its mother would have been hard pressed to call it cute. She had joined because few other guilds would accept teenage girls with little battle experience, and then shunned her fellow Lasses to go rock climbing and mushroom gathering.

Not that the guild met much at the moment. Ever since the LOVE takeover, women distanced themselves from Pokémon as much as possible. The threat of being challenged to a battle, which in accordance with Pokémon League rules was non-negotiable for any trainer with able Pokémon, was too great, and if one lost… But Crissy liked to take her Parasect out and gather mushrooms, which she did in an all but abandoned part of the road below Mount Moon. Ever since the closing of the plaza, few trainers came here, and if any did she would hide her Poké Ball and run. She was able to take care of herself.

The toadstool was small, red and spotted, just like her Pokémon. She smiled, dusted it off and put it in her knapsack. As she did so, the sound of monsters rushing from the undergrowth told her that someone else was in the clearing. She instinctively hid herself behind a small bush and peered out.

It was a tall man in grey, with long straggly hair and a beard to match. She could not help but observe that beneath the sodden exterior and the contempt for barbers lay a very attractive person indeed. His Pokémon was rather odd, though – a ridiculously disproportionate nose attached to a bipedal reptile with oversized boots on, giving it an odd clompy gait that led it directly onto…

Oh no.

The red boot came down upon the foraging Parasect, sending a cloud of yellow spores up from the Pokémon's back. The trainer and dinosaur danced around manically for a short while, before the reptile suddenly fell asleep on the grass, emitting peaceful snores. The trainer, after shaking his slumbering monster to no avail, looked around the clearing angrily.

"Does this goddamn mushroom belong to anyone?" he shouted.

Crissy's breath stuck in her throat. Her body froze. No no no.

"Hey, you! You behind the bush!"

Maybe if she woke up his Pokémon, he'd let her go free. There was always a chance. Scuttling out from her cover on all fours, looking rather like a Pokémon herself, she reached into her bag and brought out a small aerosol. Before the man could say anything, she had sprayed the lizard on the eyelids. The nostrils twitched, the limbs jerked and suddenly she was facing a six foot dinosaur, looming over her and looking ever so slightly annoyed. The man in grey quickly rushed in between them.

"Whoa there!" he said, holding the reptile back. "It's not her fault you stepped on her Pokémon! You should be grateful she woke you up!" Then, turning back to Crissy, "Thanks, miss. Sorry we bothered you. Cute mushroom."

She couldn't believe her eyes. With a gentle smile, the man turned away and continued on his journey. He wasn't going to challenge her? Crissy unclenched her fists and smiled broadly at the man's receding back. She was safe…

But the dinosaur was now running up to its trainer. Tugging at its sleeve, it pointed back at Crissy and squeaked. The man turned to face her again. Her smile froze solid, and she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

"Oh, right, yeah," said the man. "Forgot. Trainer, we have locked eyes, so it is my duty to challenge you to a Pokémon battle, which by Pokémon League rules you may not refuse. And stuff."

"It's too dangerous," her mother had said. "You should keep the Pokémon indoors." How many times had she rubbished those words? And now, she was paying the price. She quickly wiped away a single pearly tear trickling down her cheek and nodded. As he said, she had no choice. She had to cling onto the possibility that she might win.

Choking, she ordered the Parasect forwards. The grey man started making unintelligible squeaks at his Pokémon, who nodded.

"What are you doing?" she gasped through her frozen windpipe.

"I talk to… Dinose in its own language," said the man. "Keeps the other trainer from knowing our strategy."

The Pokémon looked at its trainer with an air of incredulity in its eyes.

"Yes, Dinose, that's the name of your species. Now go to it!"

Dinose gave a world-weary sigh and charged. Crissy's legs went numb as it leapt over her Parasect's head and slammed down hard on the mushroom. Parasect had no time to plan a defence; one hit was all it took. The flattened insect rolled over and lay motionless on the grass.

"Hooray," said the man, not entirely sounding like he meant it. "And now, I believe that Pokémon League rules dictate that you owe me money." He looked at Dinose, as if for confirmation. Dinose nodded.

Crissy looked at the man, trying to keep a determined face despite the tears oozing from the corners of her eyes. Her mind was racing through a collage of thoughts – what it would feel like, how traumatic it would be, what her mother would think, what her friends would think, what the boy she liked in school would think if they found out. But they kept returning to one solid belief – that if he wanted it, he would have to drag it out of her.

"Do your worst!" she squeaked, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

In his time as a special agent on Terra, Snake had experienced some of the cruellest and most warped minds any man outside an asylum could have the misfortune to come across. He required only a few seconds to understand the situation. One look at Yoshi's face, staring in innocent confusion, told him that the dinosaur had failed entirely to comprehend what was going on.

"The winner of a Pokémon battle gets to rape the loser," he explained in Yoshi.

Yoshis view mating, as they view most other compulsory activities, as a necessary chore distracting them from the important job of eating fruit. They couple up without jealousy for the sole purpose of producing offspring. It had taken Yoshi a while to comprehend first the point of rape and then the distress caused by it; he now understood it as being equivalent in other species to stealing fruit, and was suitably shocked by this new revelation.

"LOVE regulation?" asked Snake.

Crissy stared for a moment in shocked silence. How could this man not know about a LOVE-passed law? Where had he been? She bit her tongue and nodded curtly.

"Well, you can tell the next LOVE agent you pass that Solid Snake has better things to do than assaulting teenage girls. Like whupping the LOVE's sorry ass."

The shocked expression was even more marked now. Crissy slowly unfolded her arms and looked in awe at the supposedly dead man.

"Actually, don't," he said. "Don't need anyone else coming after me at the moment. Now, run home to your mother and stay out of trouble, y'hear?"

Crissy was so overwhelmed with gratitude that her habitual impulse to rebel folded without complaint. She bowed to the man with a smile, returned the unconscious Parasect to its Poké Ball and set off home at a run. She justified it to herself by saying that he too was a rebel, fighting against authority just like she did, and so it was fine to obey him. Plus, he was really handsome. In fact, now that the traumatic experience was all over, she was not sure if she was grateful for his morality or regretted it.

o o o

Time passes.

The journey to Saffron City was not long, but that is not to say it was uneventful. Yoshi had passed this way once before, but now he saw it in a different light. The Cerulean City Gym, a training building for the best trainers in the region, was closed – the Gym Leader was female. The trainers who challenged them on their way were all males. Once they passed a young couple, walking hand in hand, the boy wearing the red top and black trousers that singled him out as a member of the guild of Ace Trainers. The girl wore a t-shirt saying "Not a trainer". The only female they saw accompanied by a Pokémon had a hollow, pale appearance that suggested she had seen more than her share of life's unfairness.

Yoshi reflected at length upon the new and awful law, and upon his people. If Rayquaza could legalise rape, what was stopping Bowser from legalising fruit taxation? In his mind he saw his people, unsmiling and emaciated, picking fruit from the island and carrying it up to Bowser, now ensconced in his, Yoshi's, hut on top of the island. It made him feel quite faint, and he "had to" fill himself with berries before continuing.

Eventually, they arrived at the thriving metropolis that was Saffron City. Here, a secondary gym had taken over after the retirement of the primary gym's leader, another woman. However, it was not that sort of training the travellers were after; the Magnet Trains, which departed at regular intervals from Saffron Station, travelled all the way to the country of Sinnoh, where the SubSpace Key lay. And thus they continued their journey relaxing on the maglev train, with Snake trying to stop Yoshi from raiding the fruit bowls behind the bar.

And time passes.

o o o

The train whizzed along, silent as the grave. Snake hated it. He much preferred the clickety-clack of wheels on tracks to this eerie lack of noise. The only way he could tell they were still making progress was by looking out of the window, and even then one patch of ocean looked much like any other. The sun bowed down behind the horizon, casting a red glow over the train.

Even the passengers were subdued, most of them muttering quietly amongst themselves or attempting to snooze. There were some snoring Pokémon, but other than that the only significant noise came from Yoshi. He was keeping his mind off hunger by telling Snake about the myths of the Pokémon regions: about how Mewtwo was cloned from a creature said to be the ancestor of all Pokémon, and upon being treated as nothing more than a science experiment duly went on a rampage and destroyed its creators; how Rayquaza was said to have stopped a fight between Groudon and Kyogre which threaten to either parch or submerge the world, depending on the interpretation; how there were two Pokémon said to have absolute power over time and space, but only within the Pokémon regions, and they were created at the dawn of time by Arceus…

"Ladies and gentlemen, the train lights will now be turned off so that you can get some sleep. We would ask you not to make any excessive noise while the lights remain off, including all Pokémon onboard. We will wake you at seven thirty tomorrow, when a trolley will be coming round with some light refreshments, and we will arrive in Hearthome City in Sinnoh at approximately eight thirty-two. On behalf of all the onboard crew, I wish you a pleasant night's rest."

"Excellent, refreshments," said Yoshi. "Such a pity they're not due for another nine hours."

"What were you saying about Arceus?" said Snake, shifting restlessly in his chair.

"From what I comprehend, it's an all but omnipotent Pokémon of legend with one thousand arms. It's rumoured that it created all the known Pokémon and all the continents containing them…"

"Are you talking to that Pokémon?"

Snake's weary eyes locked with those of a young boy, sixteen at the eldest. They sparkled brightly beneath an untidy mop of brown hair, sticking out from under a red baseball cap set at a jaunty angle. The boy was leaning on their table with a slight smile on his face.

"Yeah," said Snake slowly. "What of it?"

"I have travelled across the land, searching far and wide," said the boy, "and I've never seen a Pokémon talking to its trainer and the trainer understanding except through psychic power. There are rumours, of course, but nothing concrete." He pushed his face close to Yoshi's. "You sure that's a Pokémon?"

Yoshi answered by giving him a lick on the face. The cap was thrown off and there was saliva everywhere. The child's smile looked shaky for a moment, but soon firmed up again.

"He likes you," said Snake.

"Hey, whatever," said the boy, retrieving the cap and positioning it carefully on his head. "None of my business, really. I didn't mean to pry. Just interested, that's all."

"What's his problem?" said Yoshi, as the boy walked off with more than a hint of a swagger. "That goes beyond mere inquisitiveness. And if you're interested, his face tasted disgusting."

"Just a curious kid," said Snake. "Curious kid with a severe case of the egos, but curious kid nonetheless. Go on."

"'Curious kid' my tail. So, Arceus is basically the Pokémon version of God or the Master Hand or what have you…"

"You've lost me again. The Master Hand?"

Yoshi sighed at his friend's ignorance. "Another Nintendo creation myth. Apparently, there was this giant white hand that created Nintendo out of chaos."

Snake scoffed. "It amazes me how many people believe these things. It's as if they need something to explain their own existence, because otherwise they're worried that they are just another small cog in the machine of the world, turning and grinding and of no real significance at all…" He trailed off and stared into the middle distance.

"You all right, Snake?" asked Yoshi.

"Yes, I'm fine," said Snake, snapping out of it. "I do that. Go on."

"Excuse me, sirs."

Snake turned to this new speaker with pre-prepared sarcasm already rising in his throat, but it stuck there. Unlike Sonic, he had done his research on Nintendo before his arrival on the planet, and he recognised the large red nose above a thin moustache, the massive black eyebrows and the slim figure all wrapped up in purple and black. The shiny cyan cap was different, but that was all. He also recognised the yellow rodent with the spiky ears and red cheeks, around which sparks flew like so many furious hornets.

Yoshi had seen both of the newcomers before. He prepared to run.

"Would you like your deaths fried or battered?" the purple man said with a leer.

Yoshi jumped three feet in the air to avoid the thunderbolt that the Pikachu sent at him, before dashing down the train as quickly as his stubby legs would carry him. Meanwhile, Snake did a rolling dash into Waluigi's midriff, avoiding the tennis racket, winding the thin man and giving Snake space to run in the opposite direction.

"LOL!" gasped Waluigi as loudly as he could. "LOL! They're members of the LOL!"

Maybe he had expected the other passengers to go on a witch-hunt as a result. If so, he was disappointed – those who were still awake, or had been woken up by the cacophony, simply stared at him in stunned silence.

"Hey you, Pikachu!" he called. "Let's go!"

o o o

Yoshi faced a difficult choice. On the one hand, he was being pursued by a high-ranking LOVE agent and a rodent with a zigzag tail, intent on lighting him up like a star in the night sky. On the other, the barman was distracted by the commotion, leaving the fruit bowl unguarded. If he stretched over, he could just about grab the large round watermelon that winked at him invitingly. "Oh, Yoshi," she seemed to say, "come, devour me. Consume my round body. Lick your long tongue along my curves. I have saved myself all my life for you."

"Get him!" shouted a much less seductive voice.

A combination of greed and a stroke of genius settled the decision. Yoshi leapt over the counter, narrowly dodging a ThunderShock attack, and slurped the watermelon up in one gulp. She tasted just as good as her voluptuous body had promised – inside the waxy skin lay soft, moist flesh that slid sensuously down his throat, and embedded in that were several little black pips.

"Hoy!" cried the bartender. "You can't do that!"

Waluigi's leer appeared from over the top of the bar, accompanied by his hand and the tennis racket he held within it.

"Enjoy that melon, LOL scum," he sneered. "It'll be the last one you ever eat!"

He drew back his arm for a smash, but was hit full in the face by a barrage of bullet-like seeds. They buzzed through the air like angry wasps and stung in much the same way, pushing the whining Waluigi backwards. Yoshi hopped back over the bar, spitting at both the flailing anorexic and his screaming yellow sidekick, and vanished down the train savouring the last remnants of the watermelon's taste. His mouth still full of ammunition, he grabbed the emergency stop lever and pulled with his stubby little arms.

There was no squealing of brakes, but the squealing of travellers more than made up for it as the train drew quickly to a halt. Sleeping passengers and their Pokémon were thrown down the train; a small bonsai tree-like monster zoomed past Yoshi and impacted with Waluigi's prone body, accompanied by an unpleasant crunching sound. The only person on the train not thrown was the boy in red, who watched with interest as Yoshi and Pikachu picked themselves up.

They stood there, one at either end of the carriage, staring at each other with what might have been threatening glares had both not been adorable, and therefore they simply looked constipated. Sparks started to fly from the Pikachu's red cheeks, coursing all over the Pokémon's diminutive form and crackling ominously. The revival of the lights at this point was completely unrelated, but it was an impressive effect nonetheless. In response to this display, Yoshi just smiled and squeaked cutely.

"Bring it, motherfucker."

Waluigi finally limped over, clutching his stomach and gasping. Bonsly was a rock-type Pokémon and had fractured a couple of ribs, although he did not know it yet. Blissful in ignorance, he was about to wheeze out a command when Pikachu shot off under its own volition. Spinning rapidly and emitting sparks like a Roman candle, it collided headfirst with Yoshi's boot and bounced back. Yoshi sniped at the dodging mouse with more seeds, countered by blasts of thunder.

"Go go Pikachu!" Waluigi choked out. "Show that dinosaur who's boss!"

Yoshi rolled his eyes and spat out his last seeds. The battle was being intensely watched by the entirety of the carriage, who gasped and "ooh"ed and "ah"ed at every attack. Even the guards who had come to see what the matter was stood back to watch the cute powerhouses duke it out. The boy in red kept his eyes firmly on the combatants, a curious expression on his face.

With his seeds gone, Yoshi resorted to short hops and kicks to attempt to land a hit, but Pikachu darted around the small space like a gnat, dashing back and forward and leaping over the reptile's head. Yoshi lacked the speed to deal with the nippy little monster, an aspect that became most sorely apparent when it landed on the back of his neck and proceeded to shoot lightning directly into his brain.

"Just a little more, Pikachu!" said Waluigi. "Shock his… Argh!"

A sickening crack, and his left leg was gone from under him and on fire with pain. It solidly refused to respond to any attempts to move it. Whoever or whatever had done this to him was nowhere in sight. There was, however, a conspicuous cardboard box that had suddenly appeared in the aisle.

Meanwhile, Pikachu was busy unloading the contents of its cheek pouches into the madly thrashing dinosaur. Yoshis' skins are tough enough to take more voltage than your average human's, but the shocks were getting through and when Pikachu dismounted Yoshi fell to the ground, shaking madly and crackling.

Waluigi blinked. Was he going mad, or was that cardboard box moving?

"Hey, box!" he burbled. "Stop there!"

No one was going to pay attention to the wittering of a broken mayfly. Yoshi in particular was too busy being fully paralysed. He could only watch as Pikachu, a grim smile on its chubby visage, clambered on top of him and started to fizz. Its smile became a manic grimace, its eyes glowing blue.

Unfortunately, it failed to notice that the cardboard box had shifted behind it. Hands in insulated grey gloves reached out.

"Snap, crackle, pop."

o o o

Time passes.

Bereft of his Pokémon and in desperate need of medical attention, Waluigi was in no position to stop himself from being used by Snake as a hostage. Snake stayed up all night watching the purple man, even after he feel asleep, making sure he did not try to alert the authorities. Yoshi curled up on the floor and snored loudly throughout the night.

In the morning, when Yoshi had ravaged the trolley, the two of them frogmarched the hapless Waluigi out of the train towards a nearby hospital, using his influence and cowardice to allay suspicions. They then legged it before anyone on the train could alert the authorities. West out of Hearthome City, along the rugged mountain roads, past rocks, rivers and waterfalls they ran, ignoring the challenges of trainers, making for the giant looming lump of stone where Rayquaza supposedly spent its days.

Neither of them noticed the youth overhead on the orange dragon, who smirked slightly to himself as they flew.

And time passes.


	6. 2 Gluttony ii

Mount Coronet…

The same style of introduction was used to present Mount Moon, all the way back in Kanto; legend said by climbing it, one could reach the moon. If that legend were true, by extension Mount Coronet would have had a very real coronet of solar flares, and anyone who climbed it would have been very badly sunburnt. It was many times the height of Mount Moon, and looked out over all Sinnoh.

However, because the legends were not true, the summit of Mount Coronet was freezing and inhospitable. A perpetual blizzard made the area uninhabitable to all but the very strong or the very stupid. Snake and Yoshi were neither, and were therefore having a rough time of it.

Snake was not suffering too much. In his time as a special-forces fighter on his home planet Terra, he had spent a lot of time in cold conditions, especially the icy climes of Alaska. In addition, his uncut hair was finally showing its worth as a heat retention device. Yoshi was not so well off. He was lucky enough to have warm blood despite being a reptile, but he was nonetheless used to a tropical climate on an island that rarely if ever saw snow. Thus he shivered pathetically and moaned.

"Perhaps coming up here was an error," said Snake, hugging himself a little.

"No!" moaned Yoshi. "My p-p-people are at st-t-take! Rayquaza lives on this m-m-mountain. We just n-n-need to f-f-find it! Oh, Hands I'm hungry."

"So you've told me many times."

The wind howled and threw ice crystals in their faces that stung like midges. Pokémon looking like Wintermas trees were intermittently visible, although the ice hung so thick in the air that the duo could barely see three feet in front of their (in Yoshi's case rather sizeable) noses.

"Almost utterly alone up here," said Snake. "Away from all intelligent life, with no-one to see us when we die. When a tree falls in the forest, and no one sees it, does it fall at all? And should we two perish, here atop this mountain, will it matter in the long term? Or will we be just two more specks of dust the universe wipes out of her eye…?" He stood still for a moment and stared into the snow.

"Oh y-y-yes, very comforting," said Yoshi. "If I w-w-wanted to be that depressed I'd have b-b-borrowed Pit's m-m-music player… Hm. P-p-p-peculiar. Remain st-t-tationary for one second."

Snake had no intention of doing anything else, and swayed slowly in the depths of his own mind. Yoshi held his nose in the air and sniffed: first a couple of short sniffs, and then a long deep one that inhaled some ice and made him splutter a bit.

"What is it?" asked Snake, emerging from his reverie.

"S-s-something evil this way c-c-c-comes."

"Hello!"

The outlines of two figures, one slim and one broader, were barely visible through the blizzard. Their shadows advanced through the ice, until the broader one started to glow red and a jet of flame cut through the icy curtain. The fire snaked around the startled duo, forming a broad ring around them that cut off their way back. On the other hand, it was significantly warmer now.

"Good to see you again," said the boy in red, now fully visible. "I must applaud you for the way you took care of that brainless dunce on the train. Tell me, buddy – was it satisfying to snap the neck of a Pokémon?"

"Felt great," said Snake, as chilled as the mountaintop. "Now let us past, unless you want to know how it felt first-hand."

"Back off, tiger!" said the boy. "Only Pokémon are allowed to fight in a Pokémon battle."

As the implied challenge registered with Snake's brain, the look of dawning comprehension was replaced by one of teeth-gritting horror. Snake's "Pokémon" consisted of Yoshi – the balls on the boy's belt suggested that he owned at least two monsters in addition to the thickly built orange dragon that stood next to him, gently spewing flames and looking hungrily at Yoshi. Yoshi just looked hungry.

"Seriously? A Pokémon battle? Up here? Now?"

"You should be more grateful!" crowed the trainer. "Not many people get the chance to face off against the Pokémon Champion!"

And that started the wheels a-turnin'. Snake had an IQ of 180 and the ability to think on his feet, and combined with what little he had seen of the Pokémon culture and what he had just heard it was not long before he came up with a contradiction, subtle but glaringly obvious once seen.

"You're the Pokémon Champion," he said slowly.

"The very best," replied the boy with a smirk. "Like no-one ever was. Call me Red."

Snake inhaled deeply, almost spoiling the effect by choking on ice.

"Suppose you're telling the truth. Then you would be pretty angry at the LOVE, seeing as they stole your Pikachu and all. You certainly wouldn't have told Waluigi that a member of the LOL and I were on the same train as him, but since I have no proof that you did I'll leave it to one side."

Red straightened out of his cocky slouch, his grin reduced a tiny bit.

"Now, as I understand it, the Pokémon Champion is the best trainer in one or more of the Pokémon countries – i.e. he's pretty damn good. He gets there not just because he trains hard, but also because he shares a strong bond with his Pokémon. It's definitely the sort of bond that would allow him to tell his Pikachu apart from any other Pikachu, although probably not deep enough to tell if it was a clone made by the LOVE or not."

Red twisted his cap between his hands. His smile was a shadow of its former self.

"And supposing you were the Pokémon Champion, if you saw your Pikachu on the train, not knowing it was actually a clone (and you wouldn't, because how could you?) and being used by the LOVE, your first response would be to defy all authority to get it back, because it's your partner, your friend. What you wouldn't do is just watch the battle and look vaguely amused. And you certainly wouldn't have let me get clean away after apparently murdering it. Not unless you knew it was a clone, because…"

"…because I am a clone myself?"

Red's eyes shone blue against the white. There was something manic about his smile, something inhuman. His hands flew to his belt, withdrew his Pokéballs and tossed them forward.

"Squirtle, Ivysaur, Charizard!" he cried into the wind. "Destroy them both!"

One ball revealed a small blue tortoise. The second spat forth a scaly turquoise hippo, bearing a part-opened bulb upon its back. Between the two, Charizard stomped forward, belching fire. Then the three flew at the two, while the one laughed manically at the gale.

"Brilliant deductive reasoning, Snake," said Yoshi, "but what do you suggest we do now?"

"Hadn't got round to that part," shouted Snake, rushing headlong into the fray.

He and Ivysaur were the first to engage. The bluish hippo aimed its bulb at Snake and blasted forward seeds that stung every bit as hard as Yoshi's. In the meanwhile, two vines emerged from below the bulb and swiped at Snake's legs, forcing the man to play a complicated game of hopscotch while simultaneously swatting the buzzing projectiles away.

Yoshi was beset upon by both Squirtle and Charizard at once. The tortoise retreated into its shell and span at the dinosaur's feet, while Charizard inhaled and blew an asterisk of fire towards its quarry. Without missing a beat, Yoshi jumped onto Squirtle and landed neatly on its back, skating over the melting snow away from the flames. Surfing off a slight rise in the slush, he kicked the shell directly at Charizard, who blocked it with a massive boulder it seemed to have withdrawn from hammerspace.

Snake finally caved in to the trials of avoiding flying seeds and skipping over Ivysaur's tendrils; he slipped on the slush and landed flat on his back. The monster's vines immediately wrapped around his body and hoisted Snake onto his feet. Snake looked into the reptile's cyan eyes.

"Another one," he sighed. "Figures."

The vines, strong despite their width, picked him up and smashed him into the snow. He was then winded by Squirtle, who fell hard from the sky in its shell and bounced back towards Charizard. The dragon was engaged in chasing Yoshi around the arena, while the dinosaur desperately threw droppings in an attempt to maintain his distance.

Snake was hosted to his feet once more and thrown into a slushdrift. Plucking himself out, he gratefully gasped at the icy air until a razor-sharp leaf buried itself in his back. Yelling in pain, he turned to see an entire squadron of keen-edged foliage hissing through the hail towards him. He hit the deck, and once more found himself face down in the sludge as the leaves flew over him and Ivysaur charged.

Yoshi was in a much worse state. Slightly scorched and with fragments of rock embedded in his skin, he was now being pushed back towards the blazing barrier by Squirtle, who was shooting a jet of water from its mouth. Charizard stood behind the tortoise, smirking.

"Why did you leave all your explosives back at the cave?" Yoshi yelled.

Snake's hand flew on reflex to his pocket, searching for grenades. Of course, he found none – but…

"What have I got in my pocket?"

By now the hippo-lizard was almost on him, snarling slightly as it pushed forwards. Though it did not bleed, Snake saw all over it the marks made by the blizzard, and noticed the slightly laboured breath that suggested a loss of stamina. As its large head neared him, Snake lashed out with his free hand. The strike numbed his fist, but the plant monster was knocked back and panted. Getting unsteadily to his feet on the slippery surface, Snake withdrew his hand from his pocket.

"What are you doing with that?" said "Red".

"What d'you think?"

It had been a gift from Lucario when he had first regained consciousness. The old Pokémon had recognised in Snake the same determination and disregard for rules that his old master had possessed, before he had tried to put a stop to the LOVE-run mining operation and protect the Pokémon living near their home. It was the trainer's first and last run-in with Pokémon that attacked humans, and Lucario had barely escaped with his life. He had kept his old Poké Ball as a memento, before passing it onto the man in which he saw vestiges of his former owner.

Time to live up to the man's memory, Snake thought, tossing the sphere at the stunned Ivysaur. On contact, it opened and sucked up the Pokémon in a flash of red light.

"Hey!" shouted Red. "You're not allowed to catch other trainers' Pokémon!"

"Rich of you to preach about the rules," said Snake.

Red gestured with his hand. Squirtle halted the aquatic assault on Yoshi and dashed towards the shaking Poké Ball, but was sent flying back by a punt from Snake. As the latter approached the Poké Ball, it ceased its movement. Ivysaur was caught.

Red let out a howl of anguish. "Get him, Charizard!"

The dragon turned away from Yoshi and roared at Snake. In retrospect, that was foolish, as Charizard found out when the dinosaur's tongue wrapped around its leg and tugged. Meanwhile, Snake tossed the Poké Ball almost lazily towards the Red clone, now lacking his cap and looking even more manic than before. Ivysaur emerged, looking disoriented and confused.

"So, let's review the situation," said Snake. "Cloneizard is face down in the snow with a Yoshi on its neck, Clonetle has been kicked into the fire and Cloneysaur is now under my command." He smiled. "Oops."

"Ivysaur, don't listen to him!" wailed Red, trying to step backwards but prevented by the wall of fire.

Ivysaur looked at the ground sadly. It was a Project Z clone, yes, but it was a Pokémon first and foremost. As such, it was bound to obey the orders of the trainer who had caught it, even if it had been taken from another trainer; under the current administration, even if those orders meant killing its original owner.

Snake dramatically extended his right index finger towards the cowering boy and yelled into the wind.

"Ivysaur, Razor Leaf!"

o o o

At the very top of Mount Coronet, above the clouds and the blizzards, the air was calm and the sky a vast and empty void. A long time ago, someone had built an impressive structure here, and the shattered stone pillars still remained. Snake and Yoshi, accompanied by the bulky form of Charizard and the gently smouldering embers it spat, walked amazed through the ancient stonework.

"How tragic, that this should all lie forgotten here," murmured Snake. "Maybe this is what will happy to all of our intelligent races – humans, Yoshis, Toads, Pokémon; some day all our efforts will be swept aside by nature, without so much as a 'by your leave', and the art, the culture, the civilisation will end up in the dustbin of the universe…"

"It's oddly warm up here, don't you think?" interrupted Yoshi quickly.

"So it is," said Snake, looking confusedly around him. "Huh. Well, I guess you can go join the others."

Charizard looked at Snake, its sparkling blue eyes submissive and oddly gentle. Then it bowed its head, turned and spread its wings. With a few heavy flaps, it was airborne and soaring back down the mountain.

"Why didn't you kill the clones with their trainer?" asked Yoshi.

"Didn't have the heart," Snake replied. "Once they saw Reddy Boy cut up, they looked as if they barely wanted to live anyway."

Apart from the faraway rushing of the wind on the lower slopes, their echoing footsteps were the only sound against the still mountain air. Yoshi, feeling even more alone out here, shivered despite the warmth and slowly edged towards Snake, who strode forwards without noticing. The pillars got closer together as they climbed the crumbling steps.

"Those don't look ancient," said Snake, pointing.

A large stone needle jabbed into the sky, flanked by two massive statues. On the right was a bipedal figure with a long neck and beefy limbs, seemingly carved out of pinkish marble that shimmered in the high afternoon sun. On the left was a heap of dark blue metal, all points and sharp edges, seemingly a modern sculpture of a large dog. Both were over twice the height of Snake, and both wore jagged red rings around their necks.

"Rayquaza!" Yoshi cried out into the sunlight. "Show yourself!"

Nothing changed. Nothing moved. All was still and silent as the grave.

"Probably doesn't understand Yoshi," pointed out Snake.

Yoshi was on the verge of agreeing when he caught sight of the cyan glow around the metal statue. The air around it shimmered light blue, and the stonework beneath it seemed to grow old and decay to dust in a second. At the same time, the marble statue was shrouded in purple, and the stone around it twisted and distorted smoothly. The glows slowly extended towards the pair in the middle, who looked on in astonishment.

"It's always purple and cyan," said Yoshi distastefully. "Why did the LOVE choose colours that clash so badly?"

o o o

All was calm. Bird Pokémon twittered merrily in the afternoon sun, soaking up the rays and supping at the lake water. The sunlight was filtered through the trees, their leaves barely moving in the gentle wind. In the lake itself, fish Pokémon swam serenely through the crystal blue of the water, snapping up any small insects hapless enough to alight on the surface. Nothing but peace and quiet (except if one was an insect) was visible for miles around. In particular, there was a visible lack of mountaintops, odd statues or seven-metre-long serpents.

Snake and Yoshi lay amidst the green blades for a moment, rubbing their heads and trying to comprehend what had happened to them. Snake's mind, quick though it was, was on this occasion second to Yoshi's, which although it failed to understand the entirety of the situation immediately grasped the important details.

"Berries!"

Scaring several birds with his approach, the dinosaur thundered towards a grove of trees bearing multicoloured fruits. With a leap into the air, he joyfully wrapped his tongue around the top of one small tree, withdrawing several berries with it. His smile as the rainbow of juices trickled down his chin was broad as the lake itself. Snake had not eaten properly for a while, and found it difficult not to follow suit.

"Are you out of your mind?" he said, resisting the urge. "This is some trick of Rayquaza's! Some illusion to make us…"

"Really tasty for an illusion," said Yoshi, eyeing up his next tree.

Snake tore his eyes from the berries, propped himself up and scanned the clearing, hoping for a glimpse of Rayquaza. His hopes thwarted, he stumbled down to the water's edge and stared into the glimmering water. Its surface remained undisturbed. A large red fish leapt out of the lake to gargle hello and landed on the bank, where it flopped uselessly. Snake kicked it back in out of pity.

"It's not in the lake," Yoshi called over.

"How do you know?"

"Because it's in the air."

Snake turned to see the giant toothy serpent bearing down on him, mouth outstretched and its rudder-like fins pulled into its body. He lay flat on the ground and the dragon just passed over his head, its tail still catching him a stinging blow on the back as it flew. Yoshi ran to him and helped him up as Rayquaza, curling itself up and crossing its stubby arms, glared at the two of them with malevolent yellow eyes.

"How you two worms get here?" it roared. "How you find secret lake?"

"Hoping you could tell us," said Snake, wincing slightly. "Something to do with your statues, maybe?"

"Useless Weedles," snorted Rayquaza. "I take care of you myself!"

The remaining birds flew chirruping from the trees as the titan bellowed into the sky. It coiled itself up like a spring and charged again, less effectively this time – Yoshi jumped clean over its head, while Snake ducked and rolled into the safety of the lake. He emerged spitting water.

"You not bad," said Rayquaza, nodding. "Especially you, snakey man. You fast and strong. Why not you join us?"

"I would rather cut off one of my own testicles. With a grenade."

Rayquaza snarled. "But surely you appreciate value of strength! You has it. LOVE favours the strong, punishes the weak. Whole world becomes like Pokémon!"

"With all due respect, fuck off and die, you giant green maggot."

Rayquaza's eyes glistened, and Snake found himself hurled from the water by a sudden explosion. He landed heavily on the bank. Meanwhile Yoshi bombarded the serpent with his eggs, but Rayquaza swiped him away with its tail as if he were a slow fat bluebottle.

"This is the way Pokémon works," said Rayquaza. "Strong beat weak, weak train until they become stronger. Otherwise keep getting beaten. That what LOVE wants to bring. That what I want to bring! Weak humans get beaten, and become stronger or die! That SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST!"

"I guess that explains the raping laws," said Snake, rushing towards the serpent. "But then why are you still alive? 'Cause you're plug-ugly."

Rayquaza spat a ball of glowing energy that Snake dodged with difficulty. This was followed by a plethora of thunderbolts aimed at both heroes, which also caused several fish to float to the lake's surface smelling a bit crispy.

"Weakness unacceptable! Evolution only happens because of strong things! I help it along! You should be glad, but yet you fight against me! Well fine! You strong, but you like pathetic Weedles before me!"

He grasped Snake in his hand, and held the man kicking and struggling above the ground.

"You first, snakey man! Then your green thing!"

"Watch your tongue, lanky!"

"What's that?" said Snake, pointing at the ground.

Rayquaza turned. Snake attempted to escape while the dragon was distracted, but its grip was firm. Its other hand picked up off the floor a small brown furry caterpillar with a large purple nose and spikes on its head and tail, looking exceptionally disgruntled.

"How appropriate!" roared Rayquaza, with a growl approaching a laugh. "This a Weedle! It dregs of the Pokémon world! Tiny, weak, puny animal!"

"With poison stingers," added Yoshi. "It must have been disturbed by the fight."

"Now you see why I call you 'Weedles'!" boomed Rayquaza. "Watch as… OW!"

The tiny insect had stabbed its tail spike deep into Rayquaza's finger. As it stared defiantly up at the tyrant, the area around the miniscule wound, which had barely even managed to penetrate the dragon's scales, was turning an unhealthy shade of purple.

"How ironic," said Yoshi.

The dragon gave a howl of frustrated anguish and tossed the Weedle into the lake. The purple shade started to slowly creep up Rayquaza's arm, while its face changed slowly from dark green to light, sickly chartreuse.

"I suppose," said Snake, "that this is indicative of 'the weak'. Most of the time they seem powerless, pathetic, until they're pushed into a corner; it's then that they rise, and push back against their oppressors. Thus may the weak become the strong if…"

"Not now, Snake, please!" yelled Yoshi.

Rayquaza, looking as though it wanted to heave, rose off the ground with Snake still clutched in its fist. Yoshi grabbed its tail with his tongue as it took off, but he was yanked off his feet and dragged vertically upwards, faster and faster.

"Stupid Weedle poison me, maybe," said Rayquaza against the rushing air. "But when I finish with you, I eat berries. They cure the poison."

"Pretty sure Yoshi ate all those," said Snake, struggling ineffectually.

Rayquaza howled again, this time weaker. Yet still it continued to build vertical speed, Yoshi clinging on for dear life. As Snake started to wonder whether the air was getting thinner, it did an about-turn, its tail flicking Yoshi up into the stratosphere with a cry, and started travelling equally quickly downwards.

"Fine then," it said, looking straight at its captive and a bit like it was going to vomit on him. "I get poisoned by Pokémon attack, I faint. I unconscious for a bit. But first, I slam you into ground and you die! Hard!"

Snake looked behind himself. It was a mistake. Suddenly, he felt as green as Rayquaza.

"You blow up people with your mind, eh? Do it, snakey man! I like to see you try!"

"Wish granted!"

Rayquaza felt the impact hit the back of its head and slipped smoothly into unconsciousness, wearing a confused expression. It was not, of course, a psychic explosion. It was just Yoshi slamming down hard. But the dragon would never know this, hurtling as it now was headfirst towards the ground.

Of course, this left Snake and Yoshi plummeting towards the lake shore at upwards of their terminal velocities, and the senseless Rayquaza was not going to absorb enough of the impact to save them both from certain death. As the wind roared in their ears and Snake tried to clamber up the serpent's vertical body, what they needed was divine intervention. A deus ex machina. Help from above.

And, as it happened…

o o o

It stood alone, watching.

For countless millennia it had watched over the progress of the planet and its beings, above all the Pokémon. Myths that it created the world, or even the universe? Fiction. But myths that it was the "Original One", the first of all Pokémon, possibly even the creator of all Pokémon? Unproven, but not disproved. Certainly, from its spot on high whence it looked out over all the world, its attention was most commonly fixed upon the regions in which the Pokémon lived. Now, it concentrated on the falling form of Rayquaza with its two panicking riders – Snake still attempting to climb towards the beast's tail, and Yoshi clinging to the head and screaming.

Its heart was a compassionate one, and it was with great difficulty and enormous suffering that it watched over the wrongs of the world without interfering. After all, it was up to the beings of the world to make their own decisions without interference. But now it considered. The fates of the great serpent, lord of the air (albeit misguided in recent times), and two of the planet's greatest heroes, not to mention (possibly) liberators of the entire planet, hung in the balance. And after over a year of watching on as humans and monsters alike were abused by the greatest threat the Pokémon nations had known in centuries, its infinite patience was wearing thin.

It would be so easy to pull them out of their deadly dive. It had but to stretch out one of its thousand arms and pull them to safety. On the other hand, it maintained a policy of strictly observing, but on the other other hand who would observe the observer? Only the fallers and its representatives knew where they were. On the other other other hand…

A sudden disturbance attracted its attention. It observed a large blue quadruped emerging through a rift in space and speeding up the time frames of the fallers, so that they hit the ground at what seemed like a pathetic speed to them but left quite a crater. Then Snake and Yoshi were dragged by their saviour back through the rift in time and emerged atop Mount Coronet.

Arceus relaxed. Thank itself for delegation.

o o o

Yoshi panted desperately, holding his massive head off the rock with his stubby arms. Snake stared at the giant indigo quadruped and the white and pink tyrannosaur, looking down at them with red eyes surprisingly soft given their hosts' size and savage appearances. The purple and cyan glows remained, slightly less intense now.

"What's going on?" said Yoshi, looking up timidly.

"I think these two creatures are… grateful to us?"

Looking behind them, close to the needle, the remains of two red rings lay, looking already dusty and thousands of years old.

"These must be Dialga and Palkia, the Pokémon that control time and space," said Yoshi. "Said to be created directly by the original one, Arceus, thousands of years ago. Rayquaza must have been controlling them through..."

He stopped, stood up and span around quickly. Then he swung his heavy head down onto the masonry. There was an elastic "boing" sound as the large nose impacted with the stone that made Snake flinch.

"The key!" Yoshi shouted. "We came all this way for it, and now the only being who knows where it is lies unconscious on the shores of a lake only accessible by warping through space and time! Of all the stupid, idiotic things to…" And down went the head again, and again, and again, making the "boing" noise every time, until a large steel muzzle prodded him in the back.

Turning round, Yoshi looked into the scarlet eyes of Dialga, timidly pushing a small golden key with a forepaw that could have crushed it easily. Meanwhile Palkia crossed its arms and twisted jaws not designed for smiling into as much of a grin as it could manage, beaming bright purple. Yoshi could only gape as he held the glowing object in his four-fingered hands, as if it were so fragile that a single touch at the wrong angle could shatter it. Then he threw himself at the metal beast.

"Thank you," said Yoshi, tears in his reptile eyes. "Thank you both!"

Snake had felt the joy of the moment of incomplete victory too often, and with too many about-turns afterwards, to lose himself in the moment as Yoshi did, and instead stared pensively into the sky. After the dinosaur had embraced Palkia's left leg with the same intensity, wiping off tears that glittered in the bright sun, Snake gently removed the key from Yoshi's hand and put it deep in his pocket.

"Remember, this is only step one," he said. "From what you've told me, we now need to take the SubSpace Key back to Hyrule Field, meet up with the others and enter the Dark Prison…" He pondered for a minute. "Couldn't we use these Pokémon's abilities to end the LOVE straight away? One can stop time, and the other can distort space. With their help, we could do anything!"

Yoshi shook his head sadly. "I would dearly love to free my people using Dialga and Palkia's might, but no. Their abilities beyond standard attacks are limited to the Pokémon regions."

Snake nodded. That would have been too easy. But…

"Couldn't we at least sort out the Pokémon regions?" he asked.

Yoshi's open expression was replaced by staring at the sky, and then the broad grin that usually accompanied the discovery of fruit.

"I don't see why not."

o o o

Time passes.

Unless one stops it, of course, and while the legendary Pokémon and their rescuers travelled across Sinnoh, Kanto, Johto and Hoenn via Palkia's space warps Dialga did just that. Being a direct creation of the Original One and therefore immensely powerful, it could maintain this state of stasis for as long as necessary, allowing Snake and Yoshi to travel, sleep and eat without any threat of LOVE attack.

And they did a lot of all three. Yoshi did enough eating for the whole group, specifically making a diversion to Celadon City's famous All-You-Can-Eat Café and reducing their pudding selection to three chocolate cakes that had no fruit content and a vat of custard. He also took plenty of naps, as did Snake, who could feel old age creeping up on him. In between, they travelled all over the Pokémon countries and with time unfrozen they sampled the delights of them all.

They went to Kanto and took some time to admire the beautiful waterways of Cerulean City, and go surfing in the south. They went to Johto and watched Pokémon competing in the Pokéthlon, the monsters jumping, kicking and running their little hearts out. They went to Hoenn and Lilycove City, sunbathing on the sun-kissed beach Captain Falcon had been chased away from and enjoying the talents of his masseuse, now looking a bit worn but still beautiful. Then they returned to Sinnoh and went skiing in its frozen north, while the Pokémon that looked like Wintermas trees plodded through the snowstorm. After Mount Coronet's summit, it seemed almost tropical.

In between, they set about taking the LOVE down a notch. They would go to LOVE bases, creep in with time stopped and have the legendary Pokémon mess up the place with their powerful attacks. They would rip down LOVE speakers or propaganda posters, or graffiti on them in a manner Pit would have approved of. They would find male trainers about to assault or assaulting females and strip them naked, shave their heads and stand them in the town square. Then they would unfreeze time, find televisions and watch in amusement as the LOVE-friendly newsreaders worked themselves into a panic about the "catastrophic events" that kept occurring.

Eventually, when four nations were thrown into disarray and they had experienced the best features of each, they acknowledged that it was time to go home. There was a brief panic when they discovered that Snake had lost the SubSpace Key (fortunately it had been left in a Lilycove hotel and not dropped in the snow of northern Sinnoh), but that accomplished they bid their farewells to the legendary Pokémon, who left them in the clearing at Mount Moon not three days after they had first set off from there. Snake gathered up his explosives, and after an emotional farewell with Lucario and Jigglypuff they bade the still unconscious forms of Mewtwo and the small Pichu farewell and began their journey back towards Hyrule Field, their mission accomplished.

And time passes.

Except when it doesn't.

**3**

**1 ****And it came to pass that, in between being beaten up by the various heroes that all seemed to find the Gate of Souls somehow, the Master Hand did look down upon the world it had created. ****2 ****And it did say unto no one in particular, "In my world there is much creation and destruction – yea, and maybe even more destruction than creation. ****3 ****But I am a creative spirit, not a destructive one! I need someone I can delegate the supervision of destruction to."**

**4 ****And it did ponder this problem for a while, and realised that lo, it was a creative spirit, and therefore it could create a destructive one! And the people rejoiced and were glad, or they would have been had they known about it. ****5 ****Thus did the Master Hand take the chaos and destructive energy, and it did fashion it into a being very much like itself, only a left hand instead of a right. And it looked upon it with its no eyes, and saw that it was good, albeit mad as a sack of ferrets. ****6 ****And it said, "You are my left hand, and as a spirit of destruction you are a bit touched. Thus you shall be known as the Crazy Hand." ****7 ****And the Crazy Hand replied thus: "Bibble."**

**8 ****And the Master Hand put the Crazy Hand in charge of all destructive forces that existed, which basically involved looking at Nintendo and making funny noises. ****9 ****And the Master Hand did say, "Lo, now that I have brought forth the Crazy Hand, we can work together to smack those stupid heroes that persist in invading my home. That'll teach 'em."**

**10 ****And so did the heroes continue to come through the gate at intervals, and the Hands worked together to win their battles. And the heroes did beat them both up at the same time. ****11 ****And the Hands did swear and argue and blame each other and generally get pretty ticked off.**


	7. 3 Sloth i

**§3 Sloth**

It was a great honour for a child of Angel Land to be chosen as one of Palutena's royal guard. Only the fittest, healthiest and most blue-eyed of Angel Land's children were eligible for selection, with the selection process continuing from birth to the age of six, when the lucky successful few joined the Angel Scouts. From this point on, the parents would never see their son or daughter again, and they never had any say on whether little Johnny/Janie joined the Scouts or not, but then why would they want to? It was the greatest honour an angel could receive!

At entry, the new scout got his or her new name – something memorable and yell-able, like Pit or Kary. Then it was four years of non-optional gruelling training, at the end of which you graduated into Palutena's Army proper. After that, the only direction was up – you could be promoted, to corporal, lieutenant or, for those who showed special distinction, Palutena's own guard. The one highest rank of Captain of the Guard was usually taken by an angel of thirty years or up.

Pit had become a scout at four, finished it in two years, spent three in the army, two more in the guard and become captain of it at the ripe old age of eleven. And in all that time he had never had the slightest idea who his parents were, or been allowed to find out. He could have been a Project Z clone for all he knew.

It was this, along with many other matters, that clouded Pit's thoughts as he drove the Saturn Pork Bean east through Eagleland towards the industrial metropolis that was Smashville. His hair was back in front of his eye and the metal music was plugged into his brain again. He looked at the miles of grey tarmac in front of him with an empty unseeing stare. He felt immensely lonely.

"Pit."

He knew that gentle, melodious voice, which easily drowned out his music. Clenching his teeth, he attempted to concentrate on the road in front of him, but despite his best efforts it faded into a peach-coloured glow until the only thing he could see in front of him was the woman with green hair, dressed in a simple white robe and immensely beautiful. Shutting his eyes did no good – it was if she was emblazoned onto the undersides of his eyelids.

"Listen to me, Pit," she said in a voice that almost sang.

"Leave me in peace, why don't you?" shouted Pit. "If you won't help me, then for Palu… For pity's sake leave me in peace!"

He could see the two of them now, standing against a radiant orange cloudscape, facing each other in conversation. He could see himself hunched and withdrawn, and Palutena gentle and radiant as the noonday sun.

"I cannot see my most trusted soldier like this, dispirited and lost," said the goddess. "Thus I appear to you once more – to let you know that, even after you have left my service, I am still with you always."

"Oh yeah?" shrieked the angel. "Then where were you when I like asked for an army to stop the LOVE? Where were you then, huh?"

Palutena's voice remained completely untroubled. "As I told you, Pit, to send my forces down to fight the LOVE would leave Angel Land unguarded at the same time as drawing attention to it. My first priority must always be my people and their protection."

"More like your protection!" shouted Pit, tears squeezing from his eyes. "You're just like the Yoshis! Selfish right until they show up at your door!"

Palutena stepped forward with almost feline poise and gently wiped Pit's burning cheeks. He tried to push her away but could not.

"Pit, I know you are angry with me," she said in her unchanging tone. "But I wish for nothing more than your safe return. You are wasting your time here. Come back to my side."

"No!" said Pit sharply. "I'm not wasting my time any more."

Palutena looked almost put out. The watching Pit smiled.

"Okay, so I spent a long time being too afraid and lazy to do like anything," he saw himself say. "But this is different! I'm helping to save the world, with the League of Legends. I'm a legend! Not just in like some tiny country in the sky no one's ever heard of, but across all the planet! I'm a hero!"

There was silence in the peachy clouds. At length Palutena spoke.

"This is really what you want, is it?"

"Yes!" shouted Pit.

"Fair enough."

The conversation, the two figures and their celestial backdrop began to fade. Slowly their place was taken once more by the motorways and roads of southern Eagleland. As the image dissipated, Palutena turned away. Was that it? Was she just going to leave him to fend for himself? She couldn't! She couldn't just desert him!

And then she was gone.

"Yeah, you better run!"

More huddled than before, Pit continued his lonely drive, the caves and small cityscapes giving way to trees and open fields, all of them utterly deserted save by Porky's mutants. Walking trees and mushroom-dog hybrids watched the Pork Bean drive by, while from inside Pit surveyed the landscape in confusion.

One New Pork City… Two New Pork Cities. And, just visible on the cloudy horizon, a third New Pork City. All of them had their respective Empire Porky Buildings intact, despite the skyscraper's destruction following the epic battle in which both Porky and the Project Z clone of Ness had been destroyed. Pit was unsurprisingly bewildered.

That they were holograms or illusions or something, this much was certain (or else Eagleland had done some really quick building work over the last three days). What was not was who would order them now that Porky was dead, and who would create the illusions now that Project Z Ness was dead, or evaporated, or whatever. They could have created another Ness, but the LOVE conversation overheard in Hyrule Castle seemed to suggest that clones took a while to make, and Porky had only received the Ness clone after that, less than a month ago. And that raised the question of how Porky had kept the people of Eagleland subjugated before that. This was all ignoring the fact that for some reason Eagleland was still as empty and abandoned as a ruin.

Questions built upon questions upon questions, and made huge piles of questions and put them between slices of bread to make question sandwiches, and spread thick chunky question on top.

None of them made Pit feel any better.

o o o

The massive double doors swung open with a groan. Any town gate worth its salt has a long, low and imposing creak, and Smashville was no exception in this regard. Pit's footsteps on the stone floor echoed ominously through the stone gatehouse, lit only by two flaming torches on the walls.

"Hello? Anyone here?" he cried.

"Hello."

The voice came from behind him. Pit leapt into the air, but managed to choke down his scream. Turning around, he saw what was definitely a dog but looked more as if it had been cobbled together from two different breeds. It had the flabby jowls of a bulldog, but the small nose and, underneath its green hood, the alert ears of a German shepherd. In addition to its smart red jacket, it also had what appeared to be a large metal eye patch, the core of which flashed red occasionally.

"I'm Cooker," it said flatly. "What can I do for you?"

"Er… hi!" said Pit with false cheeriness. "My name's Phillip Lightwing. I'm going to like visit a friend in Smashville, if that's okay!"

"It's not. All entrance to Smashville has been banned."

That explained why all the roads in had been blocked off. But it did not explain…

"Banned? By who?"

"Master Porky, of course."

"But Porky's dead!"

As he said this, Pit choked and covered his mouth with his hands in a way that completely failed to repress memory of what he had just said. Then his hand flew to his bow and he prepared for conflict.

Instead, Cooker's one good eye softened, while his eye patch's display became fuzzy and indistinct. He tottered unsteadily up to Pit, coming up to his neck, and looked at him with a pathetic expression.

"Are… are you with the LOL?" he said in a hoarse voice.

"Er… maybe?"

Cooker waddled over to a telephone attached to the wall, picked up the headset and dialled in a number, all the while looking hopefully back at Pit.

"Kapp'n Kabs? I want a cab from the gatehouse to the Town Hall please. That's where Nook is at the moment, right?"

"Wait," said Pit, his eyes wide. "_Tom_ Nook?"

"For a visitor," continued Cooker. "He says he's on special business. Okay, thank you."

He spent the entire call staring at Pit. After replacing the handset, he waddled back up to him and, looking from side to side in exaggerated fashion, beckoned him down.

"Please help us," he said. "This town is cursed. Master Porky has done horrible things to us all. Especially me."

"What's he done to you?"

Cooker pawed at his eye patch. "Originally, there were two guards to this gate. Booker and Copper. Now, just one. Do you have any idea how much torture it is, to have two different personalities yelling in my mind? All for the sake of 'cool'."

"But Porky's dead now!" whispered Pit. "I saw him die."

Cooker shook his head sadly. "He never dies. He never, ever dies."

A horn outside cut short any further questions.

"Go now," said Cooker softly. "You don't have long before they come for you too."

Going through the gatehouse's other door with a final look at the dog-beast, and feeling much less secure than he had done when he entered, Pit stepped out into the world of Smashville.

o o o

He sat in the back of the yellow taxi as it hummed along the Smashville main road, looking out of the window. His driver was Kapp'n himself, founder of Kapp'n Kabs – he was a reptile who had run a boat service until it ran into financial trouble, and who had been rescued from poverty by the finances of Tom Nook. It was Tom who had invested in Kapp'n Kabs, now a thriving taxi firm. However, Kapp'n still maintained the nautical vernacular and a passion for sea shanties, much to Pit's annoyance. There were only so many times he could hear "Cucumbers, cucumbers, they make me strong" before switching his music player back on and staring out of the window.

The most striking thing was the emptiness. Although they drove past houses, restaurants, clubs, pubs, bars, shops and all sorts of places that should have been full to bursting, the only people Pit saw were a few Smashvillans (easily identifiable by their large skulls and propensity for being talking animals) running from one place to another. Not only were people not being allowed into Smashville, they seemed to have been chased out of it.

Other than that, he mostly saw factories, roads, more factories and one small park with a cherry orchard, a fragment of the old Smashville refusing to adapt to its more recent changes. Not long before the LOVE had taken over, Smashville, which had relied for income on its fishing and tourism industries, had been pushed to the brink of bankruptcy by the financial decisions of an inept yet unopposed mayor. In what had seemed like its darkest hour at the time, Tom Nook had stepped in and effectively bought the city. He turned a semi-rural environment, mostly trees and grass with some beautiful beach, into a fully urbanised cityscape focusing on manufacturing. It had dragged Smashville out of the muck of poverty and into the muck of pollution, and now everywhere was grey housing, grey industry and grey shopping centres with Nook's beaming mug on them.

Tom Nook… Who hadn't heard of him? Ten years ago, he had just been another village shopkeeper. It had been a mixture of razor-sharpness, contacts and (they said) a certain disregard for rules and standards that had made him the head of an international chain of supermarkets only five years later. Now there was a Nookington's on every other street, and in an age when everything was LOVE-owned Tom Nook was still very much in charge of his own business. Rumour had it that he had even paid off Smashville's LOVE overseers, first Meta Knight and then Porky, to retain some degree of autonomy. And now Pit was going to the Smashville Town Hall, where this retail mogul was in the flesh?

"An' here's the Town Hall, me hearty!" crowed Kapp'n. "Now, ye'll be talkin' to Tom Nook about some livin' space here. He'll fix yer up!"

"You mean… I'm just meant to go in there and… and like ask him for a house?"

"Arr! Go on, he won't bite!"

Pit got out of the taxi with legs of jelly, Kapp'n beckoning him towards the grey concrete block with the clock on top of it. It was not quite as big as Pit had expected from the Smashville Town Hall, although it was just as ugly. Somebody had made a feeble effort to brighten things up by planting massive white daisies in some small plots around the front door. It was a dismal failure.

The wooden double doors were the only concession to the old ornate building which had been demolished a year or so ago. Inside them was a white room that reminded Pit of Mushroom Kingdom hospitals – small and cold and unpleasantly sterile. The only decorations were some wooden benches and copious posters littering the walls, mostly depicting an old tortoise pointing with a cane and saying "Vote for me!" Behind a shiny metal counter was a white pelican dressed in a second-hand suit, shabby yet carefully cleaned and patched, and as she waved invitingly to Pit she seemed like the only warm thing in the room.

"Hello!" she said as Pit walked over, stepping carefully on the slippery floor. "Welcome to the Smashville Town Hall!" She tilted her head on one side and looked at Pit questioningly. "Are you new? I didn't think anyone we were letting anyone into Smashville at the moment."

So I saw, Pit did not say.

"I'm here on special business," he said. "Name's Phillip Lightwing. Your gatekeeper knows I'm here."

The pelican nodded, and although her eyes remained curious she seemed satisfied.

"Nice to meet you, Phil!" she said, shaking Pit's hand warmly. "I'm Pelly, personal assistant to Mayor Tortimer. If you're waiting for him, he's just in a meeting with Tom Nook at the moment. He'll be finished shortly."

"Er, actually," said a slightly embarrassed Pit, "it was M-m-mr. Nook I was hoping to see."

"Oh!" said Pelly, looking faintly disappointed. "Well, he'll be finished shortly too. We owe such a lot to him, you know. He paid for the renovation of this building!"

Spent as little as he could on the outside, Pit did not say. And on your suit. You'd think that once you'd practically bought up an entire city you'd try to make it look nice.

They stood and looked at each other awkwardly for a while, Pelly seemingly bursting with questions but too professional to ask them and Pit not wanting to seem too inquisitive. After a while Pelly busied herself with sorting some papers, and she was humming and doing this when an automatic door behind her slid noiselessly open.

Stood in it were three beasts. The tortoise looked even older in person, with glasses, a white beard and that walking stick to support his doddery frame. He topped off the effect with what was once probably quite a chic top hat, but which was now coming apart at the seams. On either side of him stood one raccoon dog, the pair bearing resemblances to Tom Nook beyond their smart blue suits. In fact, apart from their open innocent eyes and small stature they looked identical to the shopkeeper.

"Ah, welcome!" croaked the tortoise, hobbling forward. "New arrival to the city, yes? We heard from Kapp'n. My name's Tortimer, the charismatic mayor of this municipality! Heh heh horf!" And he descended into a coughing fit.

"And I'm Timmy Nookling!" squeaked one raccoon dog, bounding forward and grasping Pit's left hand.

"And I'm Tommy Nookling!" squeaked his twin, doing the same on Pit's right.

"We're Tom Nook's nephews!" squealed Timmy. "Tom's busy today, so we've come to visit Mister Mayor in his place!"

"…his place!" finished Tommy, who had been mimicking Timmy a second later.

"Welcome to our humble city of Smashville," said Tortimer, recovered and shaking Pit's hand. "Mr. Nook – and by extension his nephews – will be in charge of providing you with accommodation. He is also the owner of Nookington's, our local supermarket. Pelly here is the town hall clerk, and I…" Here he broke off for another coughing fit. "…I am the mayor! I am in charge of everything!" He spread his arms wide. "All hail me!"

Pit saw Pelly looking sympathetically at the old figurehead. The Nooklings stared at the floor awkwardly.

"So, then, welcome to Smashville!" said Tortimer. "Mr. Nook – and by extension his nephews – will be in charge of providing you with accommodation, and he's also the owner of Nookington's, our…"

"Mayor Tortimer, I think it's time for your nap!" said Pelly quickly, extricating herself from the counter and grabbing the tortoise's gnarled hand. "All these meetings and greetings tire you out, you know! You need to rest now."

"Oh yes, of course, of course," muttered Tortimer, allowing Pelly to lead him into the back of the office. "Well, nice to meet you, young… er… boy! I hope I can count on your support in the upcoming election! Vote for me!"

Pelly opened the door and pushed the chelonian through, still muttering to himself. She gave Pit a quick glance as she followed, her eyes conveying a mixture of worry and hope. Then she was gone, leaving him with the raccoon dogs and the sound of the clock from outside.

"The election's not until winter and he's the only candidate," said Tommy sympathetically.

"…candidate," mimicked Timmy.

"You must come with us, outsider," continued Tommy, dragging Pit by the left hand towards the door while Timmy did the same on the right. "Our uncle's in charge of providing all new arrivals to Smashville with the best quality of accommodation!"

"…accommodation!"

Kapp'n was waiting for them, waving from his taxi. It was getting dark and the sky was hurling large globules of water at the ground. The Nooklings put up umbrellas with Nookington's logos on and struck out towards the cab; as Pit followed them, he noticed that the giant daisies had disappeared. Someone must have picked them. He got into the seat beside Kapp'n while the Nooklings fastened their seatbelts in the back.

"Let's go and see yours, hm?"

"…yours, hm?"

o o o

Pit sat in his bedroom with knees up to his chest and his red blanket tucked around himself, listening to the howling wind and the similarly howling gyroid downstairs.

"The best quality of accommodation" constituted a two-floor two-room house with no heating or plumbing. Upstairs was a wooden floor, a small bed and a telephone so old cavemen might have used it to complain about the decline in mammoth populations. Downstairs was a stone floor and bare brick walls, with decoration consisting of a cardboard box, a candle on top of it and a radio playing fifteen different channels of interference. The toilet was a pit outside and the shower was falling from the sky, and Palu… goodness only knew what he would do for food. And when he closed his eyes, he thought that he heard the scuttling footsteps of cockroaches.

The journey had been short and mostly uninteresting. Kapp'n was absorbed in his own marine world, and the Nooklings muttered to each other, obviously utterly uninterested in Pit. Thus he turned on his music player and watched grey wet house after grey wet house pass by, with the occasional grey wet factory for variety. He had the misfortune to see something else as well – a grubby bungalow emblazoned with flashing neon signs, proudly declaring it to belong to the "Able Sisters", of which the scantily clad bipedal porcupine with the hugely inflated chest, winking over her neon shoulder, was presumably one. It had made Pit feel quite ill.

They had continued in this way, Kapp'n failing to raise anyone's spirits with his nautical airs, until they reached the house. It had a garish yellow roof that resembled ectoplasmic green in the darkness and precipitation; other than that it was a bog-standard grey terraced house, which did at least have the benefit of a patch of grass and a solitary giant daisy in front. The tour around the establishment had been unsurprisingly brief, after which Timmy had given Pit a jiggling metal cactus-robot as a gift. They had called it a "gyroid", and apparently gyroids were all the rage nowadays. It made him rage all right – the wretched thing shrieked like a banshee sat on a drawing pin. After getting it wailing, Tommy had tossed him the key, the two had muttered something about a mortgage and they vanished off into the night, leaving Pit feeling lost and alone.

Why had she left him? This thought kept cycling through his head. Palutena came upon him in a vision every month, which invariably ended with her pointing out how lazy he was being and how little he was doing, him shouting about her not helping and him telling her to push off, which she would reluctantly do. But this time, she had just left, of her own volition. Had she abandoned him completely? Was he alone?

Maybe he was alone. Alone in a strange land, with no one to assist him. But he'd show them. He'd show them that it took more than a draughty house and a strange dog to scare him. Once he got back, they'd acknowledge him as the greatest hero of all!

These thoughts gave him a new confidence. He got out of his bed, threw off his headphones and looked defiantly out of the window, out into the rain. Time to show the doubters that the soldier who had saved Angel Land from the dark armies of Medusa still had it. Afraid? Pah! He was afraid of nothing!

Nonetheless, the first thing he did with his newfound confidence was to hurl the gyroid head first into the road.

o o o

Pit was woken by a loud rude knocking at the front door.

It had not been a good night. The rain had eventually ceded and stopped drumming on the thin roof, and the bedroom was cosy enough. It had been a long time since Pit had lain in a comfy bed of his own. But Pit's fears were not so easily banished, and when he slept it was fitfully and intermittently. Once, he woke up to see what looked like eyes peering in at the window.

But now it was morning, and birdsong was filtering through the windows, and the "bam bam bam" on his front door was refusing to desist. Quickly pulling on his clothes, and wondering whether getting some more from a Nookington's might be a good idea, Pit ran down the stairs, yawning broadly, and pulled open the door.

"**HEY YOU!**"

The area in front of Pit's house was well paved, but that had not stopped the furious brown mole from digging his tunnel up through the middle of the slabs. He was waving his pickaxe around with such gusto that Pit was afraid it would either knock his yellow mining hat off or embed itself in Pit's stomach.

"Did you break this gyroid?" he yelled, holding up the offending article. It still shook and gargled slightly.

"Er… Yes?"

"**NO LITTERING!** I don't want to have to be coming over to your house every day, busting my head on the sidewalk when I come up, but believe you me I'll do it if I have to!"

"Sorry sir!" said Pit, waving his arms frantically. "But… I mean… It's not exactly clean around here anyway! All the like pollution…"

"Did you just… talk back to me?"

"Uh…"

"**NOBODY TALKS BACK TO ME!** And do I look like a cleaner to you? 'Cause I ain't. I'm the law 'round here motherfucker, and don't you forget it!"

The mole took a couple of deep breaths and stuck his pickaxe into the ground.

"Whoo. Got a bit carried away, huh? After all, you're new in town. Jeez. My doctor keeps recommending me to take long walks on the beach, but my legs are too stubby for me to enjoy them, and the beach is all dirtied up anyways. Anyway, how-de-do. I'm Mr. Resetti, head of law enforcement in Smashville and champion digger."

Pit waved awkwardly. "I'm Phillip. Nice to meet you…"

"Ah, don't lie to me, boy," said the mole. "Never nice to get yelled at first thing in the morning. Now, you just don't go doing things like that again, y'hear? Or else next time you see me, I'm gonna be wearing my angry hat. And lemme tell you, it's one ugly hat. Trust me on this one. You trust me on this one?"

Pit nodded mutely.

"Good. Now SCRAM!"

In a flurry of earth, Mr. Resetti descended back to his home, somehow managing to leave behind no trace of molehills or broken paving or any signs of his presence. All that remained was the little man who had been standing behind him, about half as tall as Pit, completely red and with a large familiar-looking daisy sprouting from his cranium.

"…Hi there?"

The red man had eyes and a nose, but no other facial features; yet it still managed to make a little squeaking sound and look happy to be addressed.

"Are you one of the giant daisies?"

A nod, a squeak, a smile of the eyes.

"Do you like know the way to the town hall from here? I ought to explore the town, but I can't remember the way…"

Another squeak, and the red man was running ahead down the path, bouncing up and down and beckoning for Pit to follow him. Looking around briefly, Pit shrugged his shoulders and followed his new friend. Better a silent plant-man than a talking dog.

o o o

This was all trees once.

Pit wandered through the concrete jungle after the plant man, looking around somewhat cautiously (for fear of seeing something as soul-destroying as the Able Sisters' establishment). Some trees still remained, and a few even put forth feeble attempts at fruit, but it was a far cry from how Smashville had been before Tom Nook had urbanised the place. Flying over it on missions for Palutena, Pit remembered the fruit orchards, the lush green grass, the scattered detached houses with their cheerful-looking animal residents, going fishing or bug-catching or digging for fossils. Now the fish and arthropods were the victims of the factories' pollution, and any fossils had been tarmac-ed over.

The plant man squeaked and led Pit down a dark alley between two rows of terraced houses. The alley was lined by dustbins and some patches of bare soil where paving stones had been forgotten or destroyed. Poking from these were more giant daisies. Pit followed his guide, his right hand clasping Palutena's Bow tightly under his tunic.

"You there. Boy."

The voice came from nearby, and sounded faintly elastic. Pit scanned around frantically, but could see no one in the alley save the red man, who looked equally bewildered.

"Down here."

Pit looked down between the dustbins and saw, peering up at him, a small beige blob on two feet. It had a large nose and whiskers, no discernible mouth and a pink cloth wrapped around its body. If bits of this description sound familiar, that is no accident.

"Hey! You look like that vehicle I had to leave outside the gate!" said Pit.

"Sssh!" hissed the creature. "Not tell. In disguise, zoom."

"Are you Mr. Saturn?" asked Pit, bending down. "The note on the car said…"

"Guess right, boing. Listen careful now. Time is short."

The red man bent down beside Pit, and both listened to the blob.

"You think you finish Porky in Eagle-ish Land. We think so too, but much wrong. Porky flee. Maybe flee here. I try find out, ding ding."

Pit moaned. The villain had been in the Empire Porky Building when it collapsed. How could he still be alive? Maybe Cooker was right. Maybe he never dies.

"Porky man do much bad things to Smashville, Boing. You find out what, save town before finish you."

"But wh…"

"Search for pigeon with the museum. Ask for coffee. Much good. Zoom zoom."

"'Pigeon with the museum?' But what…"

Too late. Mr. Saturn was off and living up to his last words, his little feet propelling him surprisingly quickly out into the road. Pit stood still for a minute, before turning back to the equally bewildered-looking red man.

"Right," said the one with the mouth. "We need to like find a 'pigeon with the museum'. So I'm going to ask at the town hall, see if they know anything, and you tell me if you like sniff anything dangerous…"

Behind the red man was a yellow man with ears but no nose, and a blue man with a mouth but no ears. Other than that the three were identical, and the new arrivals had appeared so suddenly they might as well have burst out of the ground – as indeed they probably had done.

"…and you let the blue guy know if you hear anything, and then you shout. Got it?"

The men nodded, and Pit turned around, almost bumping into a purple daisy man broader than he was and a thin white one with large pink eyes.

"And you squash anybody who tries to stop us, and you… look at them in a creepy manner and make them feel uncomfortable."

The new members of the happy crew nodded in turn, and the six of them set off together for the town hall, the red one in the lead and Pit starting to feel his stomach's reminders that he had not eaten since his arrival in Smashville.

o o o

Time passes.

The plant men had left Pit outside the Town Hall. Inside, Pelly had been only too happy to share not only her map but her breakfast sandwich (which was a pathetic enough affair as it was – bread, butter and a few pieces of brown-ish lettuce) with the young "Phillip", suggesting that he visit the museum and the beach. Once the tourist highlights of Smashville, Pit could not quite believe the pelican's assurances that they remained as scintillating as ever, but confronted with the afraid yet hopeful look in her eyes had no choice but to promise to visit them both and assure her that he would enjoy them. Pelly looked grateful, but had to hurry off at the sound of a coughing fit from the back room.

With his vegetable cohort leading the way, Pit walked down the empty streets towards the Smashville Museum. The buildings grew more and more decrepit as he made his way, following dirty signs that pointed to what in a previous time had been the pride and joy of the city. Pit was too young and too foreign to remember the days when global newspapers had trumpeted it as "home to some of the greatest collections in the world", but if he was not he would have.

He plodded on, occasionally watching a stray Smashvillan rushing on its way and observing his growing ranks. The large daisies had found their way into every stray patch of weed-ridden earth, where they towered over clovers and dandelions, and when Pit walked past they popped out as one of the five colours of plant men. By the time he saw the tumbledown-looking museum he had an army of nearly one hundred multicoloured soldiers around him, making him feel a little braver. So what if Palutena wouldn't give him her armies? He had his own! And he marched along, chest puffed out, following their directions.

And time passes.

o o o

All was quiet down at the Roost. The brightly flashing slot machines and the dog-shaped jukebox sat unused in their corners, looking out at columns of chairs upended on tables. Behind the bar's counter, a dumpy green pigeon with black mustachios peered at his book through small glasses. He flicked through the pages with nary an upward glance until the Roost door slammed open, a sweaty Pit half-fell inside and the pigeon toppled off his chair with a squawk.

It had been an exhausting morning. Pit had dropped into the museum to ask its curator about any pigeons that might be affiliated with it, and had ended up being dragged on a tour of the exhibitions by a large and vocal old owl. The museum was obviously past its best – its paintings were faded, its fossils were falling apart and many of its arthropods and fish were dead or dying. The owl obviously knew it, and while he attempted to talk up the fading establishment he had tears in his eyes and slipped in many times how the museum was "entirely donation-run". Pit eventually handed over a small amount of Hylian rupees in pity. In exchange he received a massive feathery hug and learned that the curator's former best friend was a pigeon, but that they no longer kept in touch and if he wanted to find the pigeon he would have to ask the owl's daughter, who ran the observatory.

Tom Nook appeared to have paid slightly more attention to the study of the skies than he did to that of art or the natural world, for the pudgy young owless revealed that she had received a small amount from him to keep the observatory going. Upon knowing that Pit had met his nephews she asked whether they had mentioned her at all, and seemed quite disheartened at the negative answer. Nonetheless, she was more helpful than her father and told Pit that the pigeon in question ran the "the Roost" bar, and even gave him vague directions. Then she burst into tears and started stroking and talking incoherently to her bulging stomach. Pit caught Tom Nook's name as he ineffectually patted her back and, when this failed to elicit a response, quietly slipped out.

Having finally reached the Roost, the weary Pit was disheartened to see the outwardly open bar looking so closed, but the pigeon collected himself up and started pulling chairs off tables.

"Hello there," he said in a low whisper. "Welcome to the Roost. What can I get you, young man? A beer, perhaps? Or maybe something a little stronger?"

Pit had never drunk alcohol in his life. Palutena forbade it. As a result, he was sorely tempted to take the pigeon up on his offer, just to stick it to the (wo)man, but restrained himself.

"Just a cup of coffee, please," he replied.

Brewster froze mid-lift. Then he slowly put down the chair, walked up to Pit and looked deep into his eyes.

"Coffee?"

"Yes please."

"Coffee?"

"Er…"

"COFFEE!"

He had grabbed Pit's wrist, and the angel felt his hand lose circulation. Behind his spectacles, the pigeon's eyes had a manic tint.

"Is that you want, eh?" he almost shouted. "Coffee? Not beer or lager or spirits? Coffee? You want coffee, right?"

Pit tried to back away. "Er, not if you don't want to…" Why did the animals in this city have to be so terrifying?

The pigeon looked skywards, flapped his wings and cooed loudly. "Not want to! Young man, I was a famous barista once, renowned for my skills with the grinder and milk jug. Now, people only come here to buy _alcohols_." He spat the world out, soaking Pit in the process. "Sir, this is your lucky day. As a reward for making me feel alive again, you will experience the best java in the whole of Smashville, nay, in the whole world, free of charge! And I'll throw in a turnip sandwich as well!" He grasped Pit's head, rotated it and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. "Hmm. I'm getting equal parts sweet and bitter, with a hint of sour and a milky aftertaste… I have it! Be seated, and watch Brewster brew!"

It was indeed an impressive display. Brewster ran behind the counter and suddenly became a tornado of whirling crockery. Cups, bottles and coffee beans flew about the pigeon's head in a truly hypnotic fashion, each one seeming as if it would surely fall to the floor and shatter but somehow never escaping Brewster's feathery grasp. A cup and saucer emerged out of the chaos, placed on the counter with barely a tinkle. Then the machines behind the bar began whirring and humming, while Brewster continued his dance with strainers and various glass implements. Somehow brown liquid appeared in the cup, then sugar, then milk and finally a spoon, arcing through the air, landed in the cup smoothly and with minimal splash. Brewster picked up the saucer tenderly in two hands and offered it to Pit.

"Here," he whispered, stroking his creation. "Take it and drink it while it's hot."

Pit raised the drink to his lips cautiously, determined to put on a brave face regardless of the taste. He need not have bothered. Just as Brewster had promised, the drink was equal parts sweet and bitter, with a hint of sour and a milky aftertaste; just as he had expected, it set Pit's taste buds dancing with unadulterated ecstasy. The boy was forced to put the cup down and savour the taste for a while before swallowing it, which he did with a massive grin. In the meantime, another cup and two sandwiches had appeared on the bar.

"Let's get comfortable," said Brewster softly, turning on some lights. "Draw up a bar stool and make yourself at home."

Pit did as instructed, while Brewster sipped at his drink and took a peck of his sandwich.

"So, what brings you to the Roost?" said Brewster, in a voice as soothing and warm as his brew.

"Celeste told me you were here," replied Pit.

"Ah, old man Blathers' stargazing daughter. Blathers and I go way back. The Roost used to be part of the museum, back when it was a coffee joint. Unfortunately we fell out when I moved here and the Roost changed from coffee shop to bar. He thought I was selling out, catering to the lowest common denominator." He chuckled darkly. "Good thing I did, though. You've seen the museum, I take it?"

Pit nodded. The sandwich tasted much worse than the coffee.

"And why were you looking for me?" Brewster asked, wiping froth from his mustachios. "Surely not just for a cup of joe?"

Pit was still unsure whether to trust the pigeon. What would a small beige creature in a pink robe know about the crises of Smashville? Might as well ask the vegetable men he had left outside. However, in the light of having no other leads, he took a deep breath, looked into his cup and spoke.

"A friend told me that you might know something about Porky."

Brewster no longer seemed to be looking at Pit. His eyes were focused just to the left of the angel's head. Pit in turn looked past Brewster and into the glass eyes of the dog-jukebox. It was a white bipedal terrier, holding a guitar and with a menu screen of songs in its stomach.

"He made that for a start," whispered Brewster.

Pit blinked rapidly. "I'm sorry?"

Brewster lowered his voice so far that Pit had to lean over to hear it. "K.K. Slider was a brilliant musician, but strong-willed. Played here every Saturday once, even after it changed, giving out copies of his music to anyone who asked. Said music should be free. Well, the LOVE didn't like that. They can't tax something being given away for free. So one day, he walks out of here and I don't see him again. But this jukebox turns up on my front doorstep, with a label attached: 'A generus gift from Master Porky. You better apreshiate it, bird brain.'"

Pit gulped.

"It was all right in Meta Knight's day," breathed Brewster. "He left the city to itself mostly, and when he did visit to check up on things it always seemed as if he regretted having to do it. He set up the LOVE propaganda machine here, with all its speakers and screens and posters, but other than that he was a decent ruler.

"Then he vanished three months in, and Porky took over. The amount of posters and speakers doubled overnight, and we started getting broadcasts proclaiming the greatness of 'Master Porky' at all hours of the night and day."

Pit remembered them from New Pork City. Gruesome, unsubtle, sickening.

"That wasn't the worst of it, though," Brewster continued. "It wasn't long before people started to go missing. You'd get crowds of Smashvillans wandering the streets, holding up pictures of their loved ones and crying and wandering the streets. Others would simply come to my bar and sob into their pints. Sometimes you'd hear of someone being found, but they'd changed – either their personality was different, or they had robotic additions and couldn't remember where they'd got them, or after a while they suddenly snapped for no apparent reason and killed their families."

Pit felt like he was listening to his playlist, read out by a softly spoken pigeon.

"It carried on for ages like that, the population of Smashville slowly being whittled down, until people were afraid to leave their homes."

"Why didn't they leave Smashville?" asked Pit.

"Haven't you looked outside? There's a massive steel gorilla with iron balls attached to its arms, patrolling the outside of Smashville. The few who tried to escape – we never heard of them again."

Because they found out that the gorilla was a psychic hallucination and got away, Pit did not say.

"And then, about a week ago, all the roads in and out closed down," the pigeon went on. "On behalf of Tom Nook, his nephews told Cooker not to let anyone in or out. They said it was nothing to worry about, just a precautionary measure that would soon be lifted…"

Of course. Tom Nook, the money-hungry shopkeeper who had owned the entire city before the LOVE came onto the scene. Did it not make perfect sense that he was helping Porky out in exchange for being allowed to keep his grubby paws on his business and in Smashville's pie? Of course it did. Maybe he'd feel differently when faced with a hundred vegetable men and had an arrow up his nostril. Pit finished up his coffee and his sandwich – bleak though it tasted, it was his first meal since arriving in Smashville.

"Thank you for your help, Brewster," he said, standing up. "I'm sorry to have to leave so soon, but I think I need to do some shopping."

He put down a few coins in front of the pigeon's confused face, waved farewell and strode out towards the door; before he could leave, he felt a feathery appendage grabbing his arm.

"You're from the outside," whispered Brewster, his eyes with the same hopeful glimmer as Cooker's and Pelly's. "Tell me something, sir. Just before the way out shut, my customers from outside would mention an anti-LOVE group. They called it the ROFL or something. Do you think they might ever come here? Do you think they might come and save us? Before we all vanish, that is."

Pit removed Brewster's wing kindly but firmly and put on his best badass action hero face.

"Nope," he said. "This is something I have to do on my own."

Brewster wondered to himself whether his new customer needed a laxative.

o o o

The main Nookington's of Smashville was towards the south end of the city, and it was large. It towered over the trees around it, catching the rays of the high afternoon sun on its shiny metal exterior and beaming them directly into Pit's eyes. A large red sign bore the name of the store and its emblem of a leaf. Outside the automatic doors, which like everything else about the store were large, Pit stood flanked by his vegetable army who milled around excitedly, jumping and squeaking and numbering about two hundred. Pit was rather disappointed by the automatic doors. He had hoped to be able to kick down the front entrance and threaten whoever was inside with his bow. As it was, he would have to improvise.

"Tom Nook!" he yelled. "Open up! Justice is here, and it wants a word with you!"

It was not the best line he could have come up with. A few minutes' thought and he was sure that he could have given the world a remark that would have gone down in the history of memorable quotations as a memorable quotation, but this would have to do. He had shouted it loud enough to silence his army, but not loud enough to elicit any form of response from the supermarket. After a few seconds of silence from within, the plant men resumed their chatter and Pit was left feeling pretty stupid.

"Nobody makes Pit feel stupid," he said grimly to no one in particular.

He marched up to the doors, pushing his way through the rainbow crowd. Motioning to the front-runners to stay put, he flourished his bow, stood on the mat in front of the store and as the doors opened struck a pose so badass that anyone inside would surely be stunned by its badassery.

The Nooklings looked up at Pit with big innocent confused eyes.

"Welcome to Nookington's, Mr. Lightwing!" said Timmy (or was it Tommy?). "We hope you enjoy your time here. Ground floor is household essentials, first floor is edibles, second floor is clothing, third floor is electronics, fourth floor is manager's office. Have a nice day!"

"…nice day!"

Feeling rather awkward, Pit hid his bow under his tunic and walked quickly towards the lift, not daring to look back at the raccoon dogs. He could feel his cheeks burning.

"Mr. Lightwing?"

One of the two had Pit's tunic in paw and was tugging on it. The other kept his distance and watched.

"A-are you angry with our uncle?" the bolder one asked. "Is he in trouble?"

Pit thought for a way of saving his reputation in his own eyes. After a while he found it.

"That depends whether he wants to co-operate or not," he said, pushing the lift button.

He then stood still for a few minutes, bouncing on the balls of his toes while the lift failed to appear and his recovered machismo drained out of the soles of his feet. The lift finally arrived with a short "ding" and Pit gratefully stepped into it, watching the bewildered expressions of the Nooklings as the door closed.

Mechanical humming noises, gentle ascension. Palutena, I have completely humiliated myself in pursuit of justice. If that isn't worth the full support of Angel Land's army when I get back, then I don't know what is. It probably involves torture.

Ding. Pit emerged outside a small automatic door with a number of security features: keypad, hand scanner, what looked like an eye scanner and some of the thickest locks Pit had ever seen. The manager's paranoia was evident, as was his carelessness – they were all disengaged.

Pit kicked the door down. It swung open without resistance and slammed against the wall, giving him the first satisfaction he had garnered since entering the building. This swiftly dissipated once the door bounced off the wall and hit him in the face. Gathering up what remained of his pride, Pit re-entered the room slightly more sedately.

It was a massive office, divided into two parts. The further part was living space, and featured a bed, a massive television and a running machine, all topped off with a light green carpet featuring the Nookington's leaf. The nearer part featured two shiny filing cabinets and several pictures of the generalissimo himself, sometimes with his two nephews. Said generalissimo was sitting bolt upright in his chair, blinking rapidly as if he had just been violently awoken from his sleep upon his exceptionally untidy desk by a door banging. This was probably because he had.

"Nooklings!" he yelled, his right paw scuttling over the desk as if seeking something. "An assassin! Call Resetti! Timmy! Tommy! Help!"

"Hello, Mr. Nook," said Pit, rubbing his jaw where the door had impacted with it.

Tom's eyelids, even when he was fully awake, drooped in a way that made the shopkeeper look perpetually tired, but beneath these his blue eyes were sharpening. They pierced into Pit's own, and the angel suddenly felt that Tom Nook knew everything about his past, present and future. He, on the other hand, was shocked at the change that took place in the raccoon dog. The eyes lit up, a stunned smile appeared on his snout and he suddenly radiated enthusiasm.

"Can it be?" he said in a clipped, well-enunciated voice. "Has the League of Legends finally come to Smashville?"

Don't be flattered. He wants you to feel flattered. He's guilty here, and he's trying to trick you into thinking otherwise. Stick to your guns and show no mercy.

"Tom Nook, I need to have a word with you," Pit said. "Outside."

Tom's face cycled from enthusiasm via surprise to outrage, eyelids hooded all the time. "How dare you speak to me in that tone, child? Do you know who I am, hm?"

"Oh, I reckon I do. I reckon I know more about you than you want me to know. Than you want anyone to know."

The raccoon dog's right paw was creeping towards a red button on the desk, half hidden by papers. Pit swiftly drew his bow, notched a light arrow and aimed it at the offending paw, his hand shaking slightly.

"Oh please," scoffed Tom. "You're twelve years old, thirteen at the oldest. You couldn't shoot AAAAH!"

The glowing arrow broke into flecks of light, leaving just the deep wound in the paw. Acclimatisation to violence was pretty essential for a member of Palutena's army, even if it was mostly against the damned souls that Palutena's archenemy Medusa commanded, who it was hard to feel much sympathy for. Then again, it was hard to feel much sympathy for the rich arrogant Tom Nook.

"Huh," said Tom, forcing a smile onto his face. "Looks like I was wrong. So, outside, hm?"


	8. 3 Sloth ii

"**HEY YOU!**"

Pit gulped. The law of Smashville was outside Nookington's, waving his pickaxe at Pit and his hostage, who was walking slightly ahead at arrowpoint.

"What're you doing with Tom Nook?" it yelled. "He doesn't leave Nookington's unless it's officially scheduled. You could be taking him out to assassinate him for all I know!"

Pit smiled awkwardly, as did Tom Nook, who had no doubt that if he failed to provide a satisfactory answer his innards would be receiving an unwanted visitor in the shape of an arrow. He "um"ed and "ah"ed as he racked his brains for an excuse.

"Mr. Lightwing has important official business to discuss with Uncle," came a squeaky voice from behind Pit. "He's not going far outside."

"…outside."

By tilting his head, Pit could just about see the Nooklings' ears.

"Would you come into the shop, Mr. Resetti?" said one of them. "You can wait for Uncle in there."

"…in there."

"Oh," said the crotchety mole, looking convinced. "Well, okay, but you better take good care of him, y'hear?" And he followed the Nooklings, who looked over their shoulders at their uncle as they retreated.

"I've taught those boys well," said Tom, his fear tempered with pride of a good job well done. "Now, 'Mr. Lightwing', what do you want with me?"

Pit replaced the bow and whistled. Multicoloured flower-tipped heads popped out from every corner of the surroundings, and in an instant Pit and Tom Nook were encircled by floral soldiers. Two purple ones grabbed the raccoon dog in their stubby yet powerful arms, while the rest looked at him with threatening eyes.

"Pikmin?" said the astonished Nook.

So that was what they were called.

"How are you commanding them?" continued Tom, for a moment distracted from his imminent interrogation. "I knew the man who cultivated them – Captain Olimar, his name was. He brought the seeds back from a distant planet and grew them here in large numbers. But he was the only man who could command them. He had some sort of special whistle that they responded to. I tried to ask them to do things, but they'd never…"

"Shuddup, Nook!" said Pit, who had been using the monologue to think of his next lines. "I've had enough of your lip. Now tell me – how long have you been helping Porky to abduct Smashvillans?"

Tom looked blank. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play dumb with me, dog!" said Pit, arms crossed. "There are lives at stake here. Yours too, if you don't help out."

The purple Pikmin tightened their grip.

"No, really!" protested Tom, gasping in pain. "I've barely left my office since the LOVE took over! You heard Resetti – I can't go out for fear of assassination! I haven't had any dealings with the LOVE ever!"

Pit tried to raise an eyebrow. He failed, and just looked as if he'd smelt something bad. A yellow Pikmin headbutted Tom Nook in the midriff, winding him and giving him a moderate electric shock. Pit felt a twinge of pity that he quickly suppressed.

"Okay, okay, that's a lie!" Tom gasped. "When the world first fell and Meta Knight was in charge of the city, I brokered a deal with him. I paid him a certain amount of money every month, and in return he didn't look too closely at Smashville. Put up the propaganda channels, had the police force taken under LOVE control and that was it. He seemed happy to be able to concentrate on Dreamland, to be honest. But that's all. I haven't spoken to Porky. I assumed the agreement would just carry on."

"You, the most powerful man in Smashville, haven't spoken to Porky, your governor?"

"I just got the Nooklings to do it! I'm a busy raccoon, trying to sort out the accounts of a multinational business empire, and deal with the LOVE threats to my finances, and avoid talking to that wretched owl who keeps trying to call me about the unwanted gift I apparently left her with, _and_ not be butchered in my sleep!"

An idea was started to form in the recesses of Pit's brain. It was a foul stinking dung heap of an idea, the kind that leaks into rivers when it rains and causes eutrophication and the deaths of all sorts of water life, but like the smell from such a dung heap it refused to go away.

"So, the Nooklings spoke to Porky for you," he said slowly.

"Yes! I'm not only their uncle – I'm also their mentor. I'm training them up to become unscrupulous masterminds of the retail industry, just like myself. And then one day, my entire empire will be theirs."

"Just out of interest," said Pit, feeling slightly nauseous, "how much work do you let them do?"

"Well, there's the everyday running of the shop. That keeps them busy for most of the time, while I get on with important things up in my office. Then there are meetings with Porky and other key LOVE figures, and visits to the mayor – of course I can't go outside, for fear of assassination, you know. I remember when Resetti first told me how many people were after me, and that I'd have to stay indoors for the foreseeable future for my own good. Ever since then..."

It is a horrible moment when one first realises for certain that one has made a mistake. There is the sinking sensation in the tummy, the feeling that everything is escaping upwards while one stands below in the darkness, the nausea, the headaches, the sheer acute embarrassment and, perhaps worst of all, the distinct possibility that it will come back to bite one hard in the backside. Pit now had all of these, and looking up at the fourth floor window he saw three faces looking out and hypothesised that the bite might well take the form of an explosive shot from the mouth of the shoulder-mounted bazooka Mr. Resetti was aiming. He turned back to Tom, who was still talking.

"…takings have gone down significantly despite a gradual market rise, suggesting a finances leak…"

"Everybody RUN!" yelled Pit.

He grabbed Tom Nook and pulled him into the side of the building, just as the first shells started to rain down from above. The explosions fell into the herd of scattering Pikmin, sending small multicoloured ghosts upwards as the vegetable men made their escape (or failed to). The shockwaves buffeted Pit and his temporary protégé.

"Assassins!" wailed Tom as he cowered into the wall. "It's just like he said!"

"Tom, I owe you an apology," said Pit, "but that will have to wait. I need to know whether the Nooklings had anything made, anything built like nine months ago, after Porky took over."

"Nine months ago… There was a small boiler room built around the back of this store, but that's all…"

A small boiler room… If the Nooklings were working with Mr. Resetti, that would be enough to conceal the entrance to an underground tunnel the mole might have dug, leading to Porky's secret lab. In front of them, the rain of explosions subsided. Looking up, Pit saw that the faces had vanished from the window.

"Wait a minute," said Tom, his eyes lighting up. "Are you saying that it was the Nooklings trying to kill us just now? And that they've been plotting with Porky behind my back?"

"'Fraid so," said Pit, feeling a twinge of sympathy. "Along with Mr. Resetti. And they're probably responsible for the finances leak as well. I need you to take me… no, us to that new boiler room."

Tom welled up as he led Pit back inside. "To think I'd see the day when my mentees would overcome their mentor. Siphoning off profits behind my back, keeping me in my room while they ran my business to their advantage, even trying to have me killed…" He lapsed into thoughtful silence.

"Are you _proud _of them?" asked Pit.

"I _was_ teaching them to become ruthless businessmen," said Nook with a teary smile. "They've done better than I could have ever hoped."

Pit looked at him in horror, all sympathy gone, as he and his army (depleted by about fifty now) followed the raccoon dog through aisles of furniture, carpets and curtains. Tom withdrew a small grey key from his belt and inserted it into a metal door in the back of the store, which swung open with a creak. He, Pit and as many Pikmin as could fit poured into a tiny metal room, filled with heating equipment and hissing.

"I never came down here before," said Tom. "They made the new lock open-able by the master key. Tsk tsk. Sloppy. Marks off for that."

Pit ignored him and looked around. He was searching for a way down, a passage into the earth, but all he could see was boilers boiling away.

"What does this button do?" asked Tom, pressing a big red one on the wall.

Pit felt himself leave the ground, along with the rest of his army. In fact, the ground left him, plummeting downwards at a rate that most rollercoasters wish they could achieve. He screamed like a girl, Tom Nook gave a bark of distress and the Pikmin wailed in a hundred and fifty different voices as they caught up with the dropping room just in time for it to catch up with them. They drew to an ignoble stop, falling to/hitting the floor and lying there panting.

"**HEY YOU!**"

Pit rolled his eyes and, after plucking the Pikmin off him, stood up unsteadily. There was a large shiny-looking corridor ahead of them, but it was blocked by an angry mole bearing a bazooka and wearing upon his head what looked like a bright pink Viking hat with angry red eyes. And it was very bright pink.

"I told you not to get on the wrong side of me!" shouted Mr. Resetti. "And now I'm wearing my angry hat! You know what that means, punk? It means you're going down, Resetti-style! I'm gonna reset your game myself!"

"Your hat looks stupid."

Mr. Resetti looked as if someone had hit him in the face. He stared wide-eyed at Pit, his bazooka for the moment forgotten.

"Yeah," continued Pit. "And, like, your legs are pathetic and stubby, and so are your arms. Oh, and your face is kinda cute. Yeah, you basically like don't look threatening at all."

Mr. Resetti fell, his pathetic stubby legs for a moment in the air, and lay on the floor with eyes glazed over, muttering to himself, while Pit and his entourage passed him by. One of the front line of Pikmin ran over and tried on the "angry hat". It still looked ridiculous.

Through the door at the end, another darker corridor presented itself. This one had walls lined with canisters filled with green fluid. Pit recognised the type of container in which Ness had been held captive, but instead of a small boy these containers held animals, animal hybrids and cyborgs – a robot resembling K.K. Slider, a poodle/penguin fusion and a fox with legs replaced by a jet engine were just some of the curiosities on show. Towards the back of the room was a dog with the general form of a German shepherd but the floppy ears and large flat nose of a bulldog. Presumably called Bopper, Pit thought sadly.

"Wow," said Tom, looking around. "I knew these animals! Despicable, and yet ingenious at the same time."

"Isn't it just, Uncle?"

"…Uncle?"

There they were, the little terrors of Smashville, standing at the back looking oh so innocent in their little cyan suits with their wide eyes and their butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-snout faces.

"Impressed though I am at your business stratagems and lack of ethics," called Tom Nook down the corridor, "attempting to kill me is something I cannot tolerate. Now stand aside or…"

"And you didn't realize until we threw it in your face," replied one of them. "The retail emperor of Nintendo's losing his touch, hm?"

"…touch, hm?"

"How dare you say such a thing, you young rapscallions?" shouted Tom, annoyed now. "Get them, Pit!"

Pit drew his bow and pointed it a Nookling's nose. Much though he disliked taking orders from a morally deficient shopkeeper, there seemed to be no other way of proceeding. The Nooklings just laughed – happy children's laughs quite out of place. The one not in Pit's sights drew forth what looked like a remote control and pressed a big red button.

The green liquid slowly drained out from the canisters. The wires the chimerae were attached to detached themselves, and the animals blinked into life. With an ominous humming sound, the glass containers opened and a plethora of Porky's experiments dropped to the floor, dripping green liquid and looking malevolently at Pit, Nook et al.

"We need you as a figurehead for your shopping chain, Uncle," said the Nookling with the button. "But we don't need your colourful friends. Get them, boys!"

"…them, boys!"

They came, moaning and groaning and clanking and screeching, mechanical eyes scanning and organic eyes rolling, claws swishing, tails lashing and biologically attached weaponry charging up with various charging up sounds. Tom Nook took one glance at the oncoming army, turned drooping tail and fled into the previous corridor wailing, leaving Pit to face the onslaught alone.

Pit had frozen up when the containers opened. His sights flicked from beast to bot wildly. Now would be a really good time to send me an army, Palutena. Just an idea. Aaaany moment now. Now, when the first few of these monsters are so close I can see the whites of their teeth, apart from the more robotised ones which have grey shiny metal teeth. And the ones behind them have their massive arm-attached cannons aimed at my face. Please don't leave me to them…

A blue Pikmin leapt onto the jetfox, clung to its fur and began to headbutt it, drops of water springing from the impact sites. The fox screamed as the water seeped into its jet engine, short-circuiting the animal as the Pikmin leapt off and sought new prey.

…okay never mind.

Bedlam reigned. The Pikmin clung onto their foes and headbutted them over and over again, all save the purple ones who slowly waddled up to the chimerae and dealt out powerful haymakers with their stumpy arms. Their headbutts were infused with the powers of water, thunder and fire depending on colour, apart from the white Pikmin who poisoned their adversaries with a purple toxin and stared at them with creepy pink eyes while they fell. The chimerae fought back ferociously, clawing and biting and shooting, but the Pikmin danced around their attacks and battered them at every opening. Pit danced too, ordering his new non-angelic army around with glee and not caring if they followed his orders. Timmy and Tommy looked agitatedly at each other as they saw the chimerae fall.

"I think we should inform Master Porky," said one to the other.

This plan was cut short by the appearance of a massive explosion that engulfed the two of them and rained down bits of Nookling upon the battlefield. Pit turned aghast to see Tom Nook holding Mr. Resetti's bazooka.

"If there's another thing I can't tolerate, it's competition," he said with a grin.

Pit searched the raccoon dog's face for any sign of regret at having just blown up two family members. He found none and felt rather unwell.

In the meantime, Pit's army took care of the last of the chimerae and looked happily at their commander, bouncing up and down and singing among themselves. It was quite a scene – the Pikmin turned their finished enemies into small squat sausages, so instead of bodies there were several multicoloured cylinders lying around on the floor with metal bits sticking out at odd angles. It made the aftermath a lot tidier, at least, although the two Nookling heads maintained the grizzly air.

"Come on, Pit," said Tom Nook, shouldering the bazooka with some difficulty. "I want to have a word with this Porky fellow, and find out why he didn't come straight to me with his demands. Going to my children instead of me, Tom Nook. The nerve!"

I hope he smashes you into tiny fragments, Pit did not say.

o o o

"So, you made it, dickfaces."

The voice was unmistakably Porky's, but it sounded distorted and strange. There was no sign of either the ancient little boy or his spider-bed mech in the large shiny room. In fact, said room was completely empty, apart from a cyan and purple mural on the back wall with a yin and yang symbol.

"Porky, you jerk, show yourself!" yelled Pit.

"Yes, come out and talk to me, you philistine!" shouted Tom.

The Pikmin squeaked their challenges in a multitude of voices.

"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?" said Porky's altered voice. "I come out and get slaughtered by your army. Bet you don't even know why they're following you."

Pit looked at the Pikmin. The Pikmin looked back. Come to think of it, he did not. He had always assumed that they liked him, but this went at odds with what Nook had said about them only obeying Olimar… Mustn't think like that. That's how Porky works – he messes with your mind and then smashes you with a robot.

"You don't, do you?" came the sniggering voice. "They don't like you, dickface. They're just using you to find their pop."

"Olimar?" asked Nook.

"I want you to say hello to my little friend!"

A panel opened in the bright white wall, and out walked a small man, a little taller than the Pikmin. He was wearing a space suit, and inside the helmet Pit could see a large round head with a tuft of hair, pointed ears and a large potato-like nose. Most telling were the eyes, looking almost closed but with bright blue light filtering out from the slits.

"It's not Olimar, of course," taunted Porky. "It's my own little pet clone of him. But let's see if the Pikmin know the difference."

The vegetable men had left Pit's side and were swarming around Olimar, jumping and singing and patting him. Only one red Pikmin stayed by Pit, giving him an agonised look that suggested it was torn between running to Olimar's side and being loyal to its new commander. The one outside my house, Pit thought.

"Apparently they don't," sniggered Porky. "Oh well. Let's see what happens when I order Olimar to order them to kill you!"

The spaceman extended a single arm and pointed with a stubby sausage-like finger at Pit and Tom Nook, who was keeping his bazooka aimed at the clone. The Pikmin turned at once to Pit, who flinched; but instead of charging, they turned back to Olimar with the same agonised look as Pit's red friend. Olimar seemed to become cross, and jumped up and down keeping his finger outstretched. A few of the Pikmin tried to calm him down, while others turned to the ground and shook their heads. Pit felt a small glow of pride in his army.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" yelled Porky. "Just whistle at them!"

"Oh no," said Tom.

Pit remembered Nook mentioning this fabled whistle, which Olimar now blew once. It sounded like any other whistle to Pit, but no sooner had it been blown than the Pikmin started to change. En masse, they toddled obediently up to Olimar and milled around him, waiting quietly for orders. The spaceman stretched his finger forward again, and this time the Pikmin's eyes were cold and hard when they turned on Pit.

"Oh no!" repeated Nook, and he fired the bazooka.

The explosive shell was met half way by a beam of blue light coming from the mural, causing it to detonate in mid-air and curtail the lives of several Pikmin. Before Tom could fire again, three red Pikmin were headbutting him, leaving scorch marks in his fur, and then a purple Pikmin had sent him flying into a wall, rendering him unconscious. Two more such purples grabbed Pit as he had made them grab Tom, not so long ago.

"What are you doing?" shouted Pit. "We're a team, aren't we?"

The Pikmin could not meet his gaze, but did not try to stop their purple brethren from dragging Pit forward and throwing him to the floor to the sound of the whistle. Porky sniggered obnoxiously.

"And so the LOL dickface Pit met his end far below Smashville, at the hands of the villain he thought he'd killed and the friends he thought he had. Isn't it tragic?"

The mural was moving. Slowly the yin and yang symbol was starting to turn, and now Pit could see that it was a wheel. The rest of the back wall fell away, leaving a massive robot in its wake, as big as Galleom and just as ugly. It was half cyan and half purple, and each half had one head and two arms; the blue half had blades on each arm and its head where the purple half had guns. It balanced precariously on its yin-and-yang wheels.

"Behold my new form!" said Porky's voice, as the robot approached Pit blue half first. "I like to call it Duon, because there's two of it. Better and bigger than the spider, isn't it?"

Now it loomed over Pit, at least four times his height, its blade arms extended into the sky. Olimar's clone watched on impassively. The Pikmin looked doggedly at the floor.

"Any last words before you die, alone and unloved?" said the robot with a snigger.

Pit thought of what he could say to prolong the fall of those dreadful blades. Bargaining was out of the question and useless – there was no way Porky would let him survive. At best he would be converted into a chimera. He could declare that he was not alone or unloved – or could he? Palutena had said he would never be alone, yet where was she now that he actually needed her? Given her track record, it seemed pointless to pray. And the LOL would miss him, its more emotional members might even shed a few tears for him, but none of them loved him as such. They would make do with who they had and go on. Or he could break free from his captors' arms and lead the army of winged centurions to victory.

Wait. What?

A beam of gentle orange light was shining down through the hole that had appeared in the room's ceiling. From this were flying several people dressed in similar garb to Pit's, only with the crown replaced by a battle helmet with little wings. They flew smartly into five rows of ten and hovered there, fifty soldiers ready to fight and die for their goddess.

The beam of light spread, and its rays alighted upon Pit. He suddenly felt incredibly peaceful. Closing his eyes, he faced the light.

"If you can slay Porky, we can deal with the rest," said a gentle voice in his ear. "Can you do that, Captain of the Guard?"

At _last._

Pit opened his eyes, and did not need to look down to know that he had changed. Gone were his khaki tunic, moss-green trousers and his brown workman's boots, his disguise taken from the _TES Soren's Soul_ just over a week ago. He was wearing his old outfit, that of the captain of Palutena's guard: a white tunic attached by a red brooch, dark blue shorts and sandal boots; two arm guards, and on his left hand a protector sporting a yellow star; two bright halos on his left arm, and a golden ring on his right thigh; and finally, a golden crown of laurel leaves in his hair, which had changed from gelled and black to short, brown and fluffy. His white wings spread out gratefully from underneath his tunic.

"What in fuck's name's going on?" yelled Porky's voice.

As the purple Pikmin diverted their attention to the growing hole in the ceiling, Pit's fingers clasped his bow behind his back. He tensed and fired an arrow into the floor, which shattered into brilliant flecks of light. His arms were freed as the Pikmin shielded their eyes. Carried into the air by his wings, Pit stretched a defiant finger towards Duon.

"Hey, Porky!" he shouted. "I'm not alone, I'm not unloved and I'm not going to die." He spread his hand. "All troops: fall out!"

Thus the battle for the depths of Smashville began.

o o o

It was quite the battle. Testament has already been paid to the fighting abilities of the Pikmin, but up against centurions of Palutena's army and their spears the vegetable men had a hard time. Once they got past the spear points, they had to contend with fighters who flew into the air and ducked and rolled to get their unwanted attachments off, and in extreme cases were willing to impale themselves on the weapons of their brothers just so long as their assailants perished too. The three to one ratio dealt the Pikmin no favours; nor did the presence of Olimar, who ran around trying to avoid the spear-tips and otherwise just blew his whistle lots.

Epic though this confrontation was, the two commanders of the sides were too occupied with each other to pay it much heed. After giving his order, Pit had unfurled his wings and flown above the attack range of the Pikmin, and then charged straight at Duon, dodging the mines the robot rained down upon him with ease.

As he approached, the battlefield seemed to warp. The white room faded from existence, replaced by darkness out of which red shapes loomed ominously. The sounds of battle gave way to interference and the howling of the void. Duon seemed to get further and further away, until Pit was flying over an empty black expanse towards the distant figure of Porky's new carriage.

"Do you want to know how I escaped death?" it asked in Porky's mocking tones. "I've done it before, you know. Sort of."

Pit ignored the speech and fired an arrow from his bow. It did nothing to light up the darkness, and fell into black long before it reached Duon.

"That time was more like eternal life, really," said Porky, "only not eternal life: eternal imprisonment. I told you already, and your dickface friends: a man I trusted created a sphere that would keep me safe from the end of the world. He'd neglected to mention that he hadn't put a door handle on the inside. I was going to be trapped for ever."

"Would have been better for everyone if you had been!" yelled Pit, but his voice fell into the darkness like a lead weight.

Suddenly, Duon was right in front of him and charging. Pit rolled quickly to one side, just avoiding the robot as it passed. Yet spinning around, Duon was nowhere to be seen.

"I told you that I served a great lord of the cosmos, who succumbed to emotions. Well, after he fell apart a bit, he searched for the only help he could remember – me. He came to me, even inside my prison, and infused himself with my mind. A great raging ball of power and feeling, he unlocked my latent psychic abilities."

That explained how Porky had kept up the illusions before and after Ness Z. Pit had no time to reflect on this, however, because Duon was there again. The purple half was at the front this time, its head firing those blue beams of light that had stopped Nook's bazooka fire and its arms blasting bright pink lasers. Pit flew behind his Mirror Shield, looking out of the side at the robot finally getting closer. The interference was getting louder as well.

"A great cosmic idiot, but using his abilities I could free myself. I could use his psychic strength to survive Lucas' brain-blast, his teleportation to escape the collapsing building. With his PSI and sheer rage, I can do anything!"

As Pit closed in, Duon became transparent purple. Inside the shell, the figure of Porky floated, monochrome and red and screaming at top volume. Unlike his pathetic "death cry", these were real yells that shook Pit to his core.

"Welcome, Pit!" said Porky's voice, but the figure continued screaming. "Welcome to Hell, courtesy of Porky and Giygas!"

Pit could hardly bear to fly closer: the screams tore at his soul, the red figures in the background neared and now they all seemed to be looking and screaming at him. The figure of Porky was growing to fill his whole vision, and he saw that inside Porky's wide form another red figure shook about, wailing and crying and laughing and shouting. Pit put his hands to his ears and shut his eyes, but no relief was forthcoming. So this was what it was like to be Porky.

"This is what I feel, all the time," shouted Porky's voice, just audible above the din. "This is what shakes my soul, in return for my escape from eternity. And now, Pit – now you'll feel it too!"

"I... don't... want..."

His mind oppressed by emotional chaos, his senses barely operational, his whole being filled with the madness, Pit did the only thing he could think of – he drew his bow and shot. In that instant, it seemed as if someone was pushing his arrow from behind, giving it the force he had been unable to muster, forcing it through the purple covering. It mattered not: the arrow went through, and Pit convulsed from the cry of pain that echoed in his skull as Porky, or Giygas, or Porkiygas or whatever was inside the shell, was pierced. There was a lot of shaking, and the interference went wild for a minute, but then the robot dissipated into purple mist that faded away and filtered out through the hole in the roof where the soldiers had entered.

He was back in the white room, panting, sweaty and feeling well and truly emotionally drained. He was surrounded by sausages made of angel soldiers – Pikmin leave no trace when they die, save for a small ghost that floats upwards and then disappears. The Olimar clone had vanished as well, and Pit just managed to glimpse the last few of Palutena's soldiers leaving through the roof. All that remained were a few Pikmin lying inactive on the floor, and Porky's body face up and unprotected. Tom Nook had recovered consciousness and was watching from a corner with rapid shallow breaths.

Pit marched towards his nemesis, looking more feeble than ever, and turned the body over with his foot. Porky's skin, hair and beard were all ghostly white, and his entire body trembled with every laborious breath. His eyes were barely open to see half the bow raised up above his face.

"You sure you can kill him?" shouted Tom, his voice scared yet mocking.

"Yes," said Pit firmly.

"He's a defenceless old man, and you're just going to murder him? How noble."

"It's not murder."

"Oh _really?_" Tom sneered. "What is it then?"

Pit thought back to the unfettered emotional instability of Giygas, who/which even now resided within Porky's soul, bursting with uncontrollable power.

"Yoo-then-nay-sher."

o o o

The Roost was busy again. Smashvillans sat down in twos and threes, whispering and pointing at the angel sitting at the counter. Rumour had it that he had killed Porky. Rumour had it that he had slain the Steel Mechorilla that had stood guard beyond Smashville. Rumour had it that he had clinched a deal giving him half Tom Nook's shares in Nookington's plc, etc. etc. As always, Rumour had it about fifty percent right. Now, had Rumour said that Pit was at the moment drinking his customary blend of coffee, which he had received as many cups of on the house as he desired for four days now, it would have been hard to argue with Rumour, but Rumour found such facts boring and preferred to feast upon plumper, juicier and frequently less true articles.

"He's late today," said Pit in an agitated fashion.

"Might be a good thing," whispered Brewster, serving an ape and an anteater a cheap lager of some variety. "You know what they say – no news is good news."

"Not when I need to be in Hyrule Field in two days! If he doesn't find it soon…"

"I've found it!"

Pit turned to see Tom Nook standing in the Roost's door, triumphantly holding a small shiny object in his unbroken paw. He ran over as fast as his sprained ankle, now mending, would let him and plonked the key down on the counter in front of Pit.

"It took a huge amount of searching, but I found it!" he exclaimed. "Turns out it was in Porky's secret lab, behind that mural that turned into a robot and then vanished with you and then reappeared again and exploded. The experiments he had going on in there! Shocking. This thing was being used to power some sort of hallucination generator."

Pit took the key and looked at it from different angles. Here's hoping it still works, he did not say.

"Yes, it's a beautiful thing," said Tom. "The gem might be a sapphire. You… hm… you wouldn't consider _selling_…"

"No!"

"Fair enough, fair enough!" said Tom quickly, backing off. Then he beckoned Pit down and whispered into his ear.

"Okay, Pit," he hissed aggressively, "I've found your SubSpace whatchamacallit. I've set up a memorial to my treacherous nephews, in which their devious heads lie. Mr. Resetti's banged up in his own jail. I've announced to the city that it's open to outsiders again, and removed Porky's barricades. I've given Mayor Tortimer a massive grant towards re-creating parks and orchards in Smashville, providing that Pelly becomes deputy mayoress. I've bought Brewster a new jukebox and started advertising his coffee in my stores. I've given another massive grant to the Able Sisters to fish them out of their strip club and reboot their clothing business, yet another to Blathers to revitalise the museum, and a fourth to Celeste to raise her…" Here he stopped, drew breath and continued in an even more hostile tone. "…_our_ little bundle of radiance. Now, will you please sign the form?"

He pleaded this last question, and with it thrust forth a bundle of papers. Pit took them and looked at them with satisfaction. The bundle had started out as a non-disclosure agreement, in which Pit would promise not to tell anyone that Nook had mismanaged his business and left much of its recent running to his nephews in exchange for a sizeable fee, which was whittled down to almost nothing through various clauses and sub-clauses. To Tom's astonishment and great annoyance Pit had read the whole thing, sometimes going over passages with Brewster over a mocha, and rewritten much of it in blue biro to his liking. The final product did not give Pit a cent, but demanded many services of Nookington's plc and its almost eponymous chairman of the board in return for Pit's silence.

Pit pretended to take a while to decide. First he flicked through the many pages of the typed-up document, with its biro additions and crossings out. Then he "hum"ed and "hah"ed and looked around the café a bit. Then his eyes widened, he stared for a moment and he signed the back page of the form without looking, using a quill provided by Brewster.

"Thank you!" said Tom, with a deep sigh of relief. "Brewster, a glass of your finest ale, please. Make it strong, hm?"

Pit did not see the look of disgust across the pigeon's face. He was already walking in the direction of his stare, coffee cup in hand, over to where a beautiful woman with green hair was sipping another cup. She smiled and waved at Pit as he approached, and indicated a chair.

"Why are you here?" he asked, taking it.

"As my Captain of the Guard, I feel you deserve a personal appearance," said Palutena serenely. "I thought you might want to ask me some things."

"Well, I do."

Pit stared into Palutena's unfazed green eyes, waiting for a response. Palutena sipped her drink and waited for a question.

Pit broke first. "Can anyone else see you?"

"They could if they wanted to. But those who don't believe in me just… won't. They'll ignore me, and anyone talking to me. It's easier on their disbelief that way."

"You drink cappuccino?"

"Black coffee's too strong for me, and…"

"What took you so long?" Pit almost shouted. "All those times I was nearly dead, nearly lost hope…"

"_Nearly_," said Palutena calmly. "I am a goddess. I believe that the beings in my kingdom should have free will, and prefer to provide psychological help if I help at all. I should not have done what I did, strictly," she said, looking somewhat abashed. "But to see you so disheartened before the robot… I could not bear to let you think I had abandoned you. Then I followed you into the battle, and helped your arrow to fly. It was not good of me. I must not make a habit of it."

"Is that why you refused to let me take an army against the LOVE?"

Palutena looked into her drink. "Partly."

They sat in silence some more. Palutena swirled her drink, her eyes seeking something in the bottom of the cup. Pit sensed that no more answers to that question would be forthcoming, so posed another.

"Why did you let me think you had abandoned me?"

Palutena leant back and inhaled deeply before answering. "You must understand, Pit, that I came to you as ever, with the intention of making you return to Angel Land and leave your foolish existence behind you. For ten months, I have watched you laze about, doing nothing, pretending to fight the LOVE while in reality you just played kiss chase with the Hylian guards and drowned your worries in poetry and aggressive music. Don't give me that look – you know it's true. And I always felt that so long as the alternative was frittering your life away, it would be better for you to come back home and less potentially lethal.

"But when I spoke to you as you travelled through Eagleland, I sensed that something had changed. There was fire in your eyes, and determination. No longer someone who had left my service just to prove a point, you were once again the hero who rescued Eagleland from the clutches of Medusa. Greatly though I feared for your safety, I knew this was the right thing to do and left you to it.

"I did not mean to make you think that I had abandoned you. I have been with you the whole time. I just wanted you to do what you were passionate about. If you felt alone, that was because you rejected me, not the other way around."

Pit acknowledged this, feeling rather foolish, and thought for a while with one hand on his chin. Palutena fixed her green eyes upon him.

"I can answer one more question," she said softly.

"I don't think I have any more," replied Pit slowly.

"Yes you do. You have one major question, which you have wanted to know all your life."

Pit looked at her, mouth gaping. Ever time he had raised the subject of his parents, Palutena had clammed up, or said that keeping their identities secret was necessary under her military system. Was she going to tell him now?

"Your parents were good, but misguided people," she began, breathing deeply. "Your mother was a lovesick fool, and your father no better. They fell for each other in a union they knew could never last. A union that resulted in you.

"Your mother was from Angel Land, and after you were born she asked a favour of me. She begged me to take you in, and to never tell you about your family. She was ashamed of what she had done, and thus of you. Wrongly ashamed, but ashamed.

"And so I took you in, and I trained you as a member of my army; but I gave you solitary training, and made you believe all members of my army were given up by their parents. It was a lie, Pit. It was a dreadful lie and I have regretted it ever since. All that I can say is that it seemed the right thing to do at the time.

"It was because of your mother that I tried so hard to return you to Angel Land when you left. She was afraid that you would die out here. Medusa and her army of lost souls are no real threat, not to you, but the LOVE are something else entirely. But now that you have proven yourself to be a passionate hero, I feel you have the right to help save Nintendo.

"I'm so sorry, Pit. Sorry for all the lies. Can you forgive me?"

Pit had sat there and listened with wide eyes and his mouth open. Realising that Palutena had finished, he closed it and bit his lip.

"You, maybe," he said after some thought. "But not my mother. She abandoned me? Why?"

Palutena sniffed, and Pit saw a glowing yellow tear appear on her cheek. He realised that he was crying too.

"I was afraid my people would no longer respect me if they knew I had borne a child by a mortal. I'm so sorry."

Pit looked at the table, then at Palutena, then at the table, and then fell backwards off his chair.

o o o

The sun was setting over the hills of Eagleland by the time Pit detached himself from Cooker's ecstatic embraces and made his way out of the gatehouse. As it turned out, the doubledog-cyborg felt that the loss of a "brother" he had never known, and who had probably been in as much pain as he was, less than the joy of knowing that no other such creation would ever belch forth from the bowels of Porky's mind. Pit had fended him off still in a daze, the same daze in which he had sat through Kapp'n's nautical songs on the way there without a flicker, and looked for the Saturn Pork Bean. Had he been more himself, he would have been more than a little disconcerted by its absence where he had left it.

"You there. Boy."

He recognised the voice, and this time Pit did not need to be told to look down. When he did, he saw not one beige creature with a big nose but eight of them, all looking up at Pit with their beady black eyes and smiling with their no mouths. Each had a single strand of hair atop its head, adorned with a pink bow. The one with the pink cape still had it draped around him and stood at the front, looking ever so slightly smug.

"Hallucinations vanish all over Eagle-ish Land, ding," he said. "Your work?"

Pit nodded dazedly. In an instant the blobs were all over his feet, jumping up and down and making elastic noises. The shier ones nuzzled his ankles from behind.

"Is this your family?" he asked through the daze. "Which one's Mrs. Saturn?"

There came elastic laughter from around his boots.

"All Mr. Saturns, zoom boing!" said one, sounding exactly the same as its caped comrade. "Species name Mr. Saturn. Live in Saturn Valley in Eagleland. Peaceful, nice, ding ding."

"Porky man not so nice," said another, a shy one. "He sometimes attack our peaceful valley. We not like. But you show him! I girl, by way."

"How did you know that I should ask Brewster for a coffee?" asked Pit of the group, only semi-caring.

"We do spying in Smashville, boing. Look for Porky man. Go round Roost, coffee cup abandoned, drink coffee. Really nice, Zoom! Think you should try it when there!"

Nothing to do with clues to the mystery at all. Guess that fits their disposition. The Mr. Saturns were still bouncing around his boots.

"Guys, it's been my pleasure to help you out," Pit said, trying to carefully extract a leg, "but I've got to get back to like help my friends now. Any of you see the big car?"

"We take back Saturn Pork Bean," said the caped one. "We need it for helping you soon, boing."

Fair enough, I guess (you gave us it in the first place), but how am I going to get back to the LOL?

"But we not want to leave you without ridey thing, ding ding. We bring instead Saturn Runner."

"That sounds… nice?"

A ninth Mr. Saturn rode out from behind a nearby bush on what looked like a tea table with legs and somersaulted off, landed on its nose and rolled away. The tea table bore the Saturnian whiskers and a little pink bow towards it back. Pit stared at it dazedly for a moment, before the tide around his feet started drawing him towards it.

"We set co-ordy nates for Hyrule Field. We check Saturn Pork Bean - say you come from there. Ding boing?"

"Yeah, almost…" He was pushed onto the table by eager noses, and tried to make himself comfortable on its smooth surface.

""Now holding on tight, zoom zoom **zoom**! Cheery-bye, Legend man!"

"Holding on tight to whaAAAAAA…"

Fortunately the slim black faux-whiskers on the front of the table were stronger than they looked, as were Pit's hands – a boon when the table shot off at a speed far greater than that of any table Pit had yet experienced. He was too busy yelling in fear and hanging on to see the Mr. Saturns, doing their best at waving farewell without hands.

After a while, he would adjust to the galloping gait and sharp turns of the Saturn Runner. He would think about the disappearance of the remaining Pikmin, who lacking their commander vanished without trace from Smashville and its underground. He would think back to Palutena's conversation, and spend a while trying to puzzle out why having a mortal-born son was so shameful, without success. He would think about his future after the LOVE threat was over (if it ever was), and how he was going to quit Palutena's guard and tell everyone about her lies, or change country, or go on holiday for a while and come back, or continue with his poetry, or dye his hair again, or keep it like it was, or shave it all off. He would think about how dog-tired he was, and even catch a few minutes' rest before the next corner threw him a bit.

But mostly, he would think about how he, Pit, was the son of a goddess. Was he glad that he had met one of his parents? Was he annoyed that he had been kept in the dark for thirteen years? Was he angry that his mother (his mother!) had let him get so near death so many times without lifting a finger to help him? Was he sorrowful that his amazing skills were not the result of his innate amazing-ness, but that of having a divine parent? A little bit of all of them, perhaps, mixed together in a melting pot of emotion almost as potent as Giygas.

Nonetheless, first and foremost on his list of feelings was his sense of duty. Whoever his mother was, he had a task to fulfill. There was a key in his pocket (that hopefully was not going to fall out, because it would take a hell of a long time to fetch if it did) that would take him into the Dark Prison, where he would rescue the Purged and impress the LOL, especially Peach, with his amazing hero "skillz". Besides, he bet the girls would find it really hot that he was half-god.

Not once did he think about his music player, left behind in his wooden Smashville bedroom, and he was much happier for it.

**4**

**1 ****And it came to pass that the Crazy Hand did approach the Master Hand, and it seemed peculiarly agitated. And this was because it was peculiarly agitated. ****2 ****And the Master Hand did say unto him, "What ails you, kindred spirit? And if you say 'bibble' or 'pheep' or 'pa-taah' so help me I'll smack you in the palm." ****3 ****So the Crazy Hand did rethink what it was about to say, and spoke as follows.**

**4 ****"We currently reside in Space, which is defined because there is no creation; however, that is not to say there is no destruction. ****5 ****And because of this, might it not be that we are destroyed one day while we remain here?" ****6 ****And the Master Hand did scoff, and replied, "But if there is no creation, how can there be any destruction when there is nothing to destroy?" ****7 ****But the Crazy Hand did respond, "There is something to destroy: there is us." And the Master Hand said, "Okay, fine, geez."**

**8 ****And it did summon up all its creative power, and when it had finished the area in which they remained had acquired a purple tint. ****9 ****The Master Hand did declaim unto anyone who was paying attention, "Behold! I have created a space as empty as Space, but defined by its lack of destruction rather than its lack of creation. ****10 ****Furthermore, it will freeze all inhabitants of space in time upon entrance, which should prevent any more interruptions from 'heroes'. ****11 ****And because it is like Space but created second, I shall call it 'SubSpace'." ****12 ****And the Crazy Hand did say appreciatively, "Pheep." And the Master Hand did smack it in the palm.**


	9. 4 Envy i

**§4 Envy**

I do not forget some things easily.

I would not pretend that I am some _savant_, some person with a miraculous mind that maintains everything that drops into it. I am not. But I do have one folder in there, and I will remember everything that folder contains. Time will not dull their sharp edges, and all attempts to empty the folder will invariably fail. It is a sort of mental safe, if you will.

The folder is entitled "My Mistakes".

It is not, comparatively speaking, a big folder. I like to think that I consider my actions more than most, and as a result make correspondingly fewer errors. But when something gets into that folder, it sticks to the inside like a disgusting lump of chewing gum. It sits and festers and when I let the hand of my thoughts wander for a bit, it invariably gets into the folder and sticks to one or more mistakes, which I will then spend a long time ruing long after everyone else has forgotten them completely. The greater the mistake, the larger the lump and the more likely it is my hand will get stuck to it, and the longer it will take to un-stick myself.

There is only one solvent which will successfully clean a lump of mistake from the inside of the folder, and that is to atone for the mistake. The only way to do this is to apologise and make it up to all the people who have been adversely affected by my error, and should this be too difficult or impossible to accomplish (as it frequently is) then it will remain there, to be regretted at irregular intervals, until my dying day.

If you are dying to say, "Why, oh Meta Knight, do you not simply close this folder up so that you cannot insert your hand, or burn it or something?", then I say to you that you have taken my metaphor too far, and maybe you should try burning or closing up a bit of your brain. I think that at this point you would retreat.

This is part of the story of how I tried to remove the largest, stickiest mistake that has ever taken up residence within my folder.

o o o

My narrative starts in the green plains of Hyrule Field. Well, actually that is untrue – my narrative starts, chronologically speaking, on a distant planet the Nintens call "Pop Star", an allusion to its five-pointed shape and its multicoloured rings. All in good time, though – for now, my narrative is in Hyrule Field.

Not for long, though, for it picks up a few weeks after I joined the anti-LOVE force the planet would unfortunately come to know as the League of Legends, or "LOL" for short. It also begins several hours after the League's chance meeting with Shadow, the dark-furred doppelganger of our apparent leader Sonic. During this time, I had used the Mach Tornado technique to traverse much of the ground between the meeting point and the place where Hyrule bordered Dreamland. The technique is aptly named – the user spins around like a tornado, drawing debris and foes in like a tornado, and then spits them out like a tornado; and a skilled user can travel in tornado form at greater than the speed of sound, otherwise known as Mach 1. Hence, Mach Tornado.

Dreamland, you may recall, is a massive country-continent characterised by a somewhat artificial appearance. Its origin story is an interesting one, as it was originally a nation of Pop Star; but as I said earlier, all in good time. For now, it will suffice to recall that King Dedede was currently in charge of it and that I had been second-in-command of it up until my permanent exclusion from the LOVE about nine months ago.

It took me about twenty-four hours to traverse the expanse of Hyrule Field without crashing into too many of the Moblins, goblins and other varieties of x-oblin that patrolled the grasses. As a master of the Mach Tornado, I was able to spin on autopilot and concentrate on more important things, like how much I had failed everyone who mattered to me and how depressed I was. I do that a lot. It depresses me even more, so I think more about how depressed I am. It's a vicious cycle.

As I reached the border the day after meeting Shadow, where the flowing greenery of Hyrule suddenly gave way to the almost artificial greenery of Dreamland, the unmistakable swish of rollerblades hissed out over the plains. Toppling out of my tornado in a dizzy daze, I stumbled over to a bush and hid myself. A creature a little taller than me, yellow in hue, decked out in a red baseball cap and holding a large paintbrush, skated along the join between the countries. It drew to a stop, painted a gun turret onto the grass and then skated off without a backward glance. Shortly afterwards, a gun turret appeared on the ground where the graffiti had been.

The presence of Paint Roller on the border rather suggested that King Dedede was keeping an eye out for someone trying to sneak into his country, or more likely eight someones, possibly accompanied by a grey-garbed someone with a beard. I smiled to myself beneath my mask. What a very efficient defence mechanism, I thought, as I zipped past the slowly moving shells.

o o o

As I span at over 600 rpm down the patchwork-esque country roads, I thought over the rough plan I had constructed on my journey. It involved me facing up to and apologising to some of the people my mistake had hurt worst (just worst, you understand, not _the _worst), and in a way I looked forward to it. It would be awkward and difficult and painful, but that was all part of the purging… Sorry, poor choice of word: it was part of the _cleansing_ process. Each embarrassed glance at the floor, each muttered expression of regret, each reddening of my blue cheeks would be a wave of solvent washing over that big sticky lump of discarded gum.

The only problem was finding the people. They had no reason to remain loyal to me after what I had done. Suppose they had regrouped? What if they had left Dreamland altogether? I would be left fighting my way into King Dedede's fortress on my own, and I like my life. Sometimes. When I'm not regretting things. Then I hate it. But not enough to end it by fighting my way into King Dedede's fortress on my own.

It took me about eight hours to traverse the expanse of Dreamland without crashing into too many of the Waddle Dees, Waddle Doos and Waddevers that patrolled the streets. As a master of the Mach Tornado, I was able to spin on autopilot and concentrate on more important things, like how much I had failed everyone who mattered to me and…

I feel like I am repeating myself.

Not important, anyway. What is important is what happened when those eight hours were up, and Dreamland was shrouded in darkness. It was a relief for me, as Mach Tornado-ing into the capital city of Dreamland, known to most simply as "The City", would have rather spoilt my attempt at stealth. I am, however, very good at flitting through shadows. Wrapped in my cape, I move almost unseen from one shadow to the next, and when The City is dark save for street lamps and shop lights then the shadows are everywhere and I move like a fish in a stream, swimming in smooth continuous movement from one nook or cranny to the next and only emerge to deliver a sharp slash to the throat of a transgressor (which I must admit is not typical of most fish). I was not responsible for the rending of any jugulars on this occasion – that too would have spoilt the attempt at stealth. I simply swam until I reached the inconspicuous wooden door, a bit creaky but still intact.

I held my breath as I tapped in the strange pattern on the door, which included knocking, doorbell ringing and "accidentally" rapping one's knuckles on the frame. Suppose they should have moved on? Suppose, worse still, someone else had moved in, and should emerge wondering what this cretin was doing being unable to knock properly? And what if they should recognise me? I would be in the figurative soup for sure. I heard the soft frequent footsteps of a Waddle Dee plodding down the hall towards the door, and prayed to Zelda's goddesses that it was wearing a sailor's hat.

The eye-hatch opened, and above the large black eyes was a sailor's hat. I breathed a massive sigh of relief.

"Hello, Nautilus," I said, in a way I hoped was "chummy" enough while still conveying a sense of deep apology.

Nautilus' response was to grow his eyes several times and jump back as if stung. I cannot blame him – the last he had heard of me was that I had been banished from the LOVE, presumed dead. To his credit, he rallied splendidly. He returned to the hatch and looked me dead in the eyes, shaking only slightly.

"M-m-meta!" he squeaked. "They told us you were dead!"

"Did they really. So, how about letting me in?"

Nautilus' eyes faced the floor. "The new boss says you're permanently excluded from the Meta-Knights under section two, clause two."

"Any Meta-Knight who at any point with the Meta-Knights abandons the Meta-Knights for reasons deemed selfish by the remaining Meta-Knights shall be permanently excluded from the Meta-Knights." I knew it off by heart, and had been long aware that it was one of the many clauses from my own code that would be used against me when I came grovelling back. However, I had a counter-strike prepared, at least to get me in.

"And what is clause two of section four?" I retaliated.

Nautilus' eyes became thoughtful for a moment. "'The list of excluding crimes includes, but is not limited to, stealing the food of another member…'?"

"No, that's clause four of section two."

"'A Meta-Knight must not endanger his own life for stupid or unnecessary reasons, unless failing to do so would endanger the safety of innocents or the Meta-Knights in general'?"

"Bingo." I unsheathed Galaxia and waved it before the hatch. "Now, it would be greatly endangering your life not to let me in, and I'd get to the rest of the Meta-Knights either way."

I gave this time to sink in. Through the hatch, I could see Nautilus' eyes heaven-turned and pondering, then focused on Galaxia, then locked on mine with a hint of fear for his life around the edges. Finally they moved to one side, and after a bit of grinding of locks Nautilus' head, and therefore his body, peeked around the door.

"Well, you'd better come in then."

o o o

I was the only one of my friends who liked swords. I say "friends" – I was quiet in my formative years, a diminutive blue blob with stubby to non-existent arms and legs and a tendency to blush. But there was a group of people at City Prep who I tended to hang around because we all liked sharp things, and they tolerated me as an outsider.

There was Alfonso, with yellow spiky hair he hid under a similarly shaped purple helmet and large soulful eyes. He was the unofficial leader of the group, and liked maces. Ezlo resembled a skull with purple shoes and a red horned helmet; he followed Alfonso around like a faithful puppy and favoured axes. And Greg, the silent one, was made out of metal he had painted purple, and retrieved javelins from a hatch in his body. It was Alfonso's suggestion that they all wear some purple, and wanting to fit in I donned purple boots and cape.

Alfonso was fond of patronising me, and for a long time I did not object from the hope of forming friends. He would comment on how I looked too "cute" to be a soldier, and when the others acquired nicknames based on their preferred weapons (Mace Knight, Axe Knight, Javelin Knight) he called me "Blush Knight". Thus I crafted myself a mask out of an old hubcap to hide those wretched flushes; he duly changed my nickname to "Hub Knight". I duly challenged him to a duel, fed up at last, and after laughing at me dismissively he was du(e)ly sent to Matron with severe lacerations and bruising while I got detention for three days.

That changed things a bit in the playground. I was suddenly in charge, and now my quiet nature and mask made me "mysterious". My nickname became Metal Knight, and because I was unimaginative my band, of which I was now not only an accepted member but the leader, was named "the Metal-Knights". The "l" was later dropped because it was hard to pronounce. We met after school to practise with our weaponry, vowing to defend the innocent from the guilty, and carried on this practice after leaving City Prep, when I wrote up our code. We were heroes of all Dreamland, right up until someone else usurped us.

And after the journey down the steep stairs there they all were (plus one extra), sitting round a wooden table, all armoured up and with their weapons sitting by their sides, glinting in the light of the flaming torches. Not much had changed in the last year, clearly, apart from what would usually be a cry of recognition as I entered the room becoming a cry of horror and several sharp objects being thrust in my direction.

"Nauty, why did you let that thing in?" yelled Trident Knight.

That stung. As the weapons pointed in my direction, I saw that the eyes of my former comrades were not as hatred-filled as I had imagined them to be – Mace looked curious, Axe looked positively happy to see me and Javelin's optic panel was cyan, dictating neutral or interested feelings as opposed to angry or scared ones. But from beneath the purple helmet and the yellow moon Titania had fixed onto it, the scarlet orbs of our latest addition to the Knights' Inner Circle were pinpricks of pure anger directed at me. Nautilus merely cowered and looked around with big eyes.

"Code of the Meta-Knights, clause two, section four," I replied for him. "Who is…"

"And you in turn broke clause one, section two!" Trident cried back. "'Any Meta-Knight who threatens any other…'"

"Trident," said Mace calmly, "Meta has broken his own code in much more evident ways than sub-clause one, clause one, section two over the last year. Somehow I think that being told off for that is no great worry to him."

It was true that I had more pressing matters to deal with, but having my own code used against me was a stab in the ribs nonetheless. The same was true for the yellow feathers on what had been my chair, because I knew to whom they belonged. All part of the cleansing, all part of the cleansing. Keep calm.

Mace had been looking me up and down, and now he spoke. "The Code says nothing about letting traitors back in. Have you come to apologise, or to pretend you've turned over a new leaf?"

"Both, I expect. Have you heard of the League of Legends?"

That struck a chord. There were mutterings suggesting a mix of wonder and irritation that the LOL were doing the Knights' job better than the Knights could. Javelin's display flashed green (envy), navy (awe) and orange with pink stripes (I have no idea).

"I've been travelling with them," I said. "I rescued Solid Snake, brought him back to Yoshi's Island, and then five months later joined up with the LOL."

A modest triumph. Axe's eyes lit up, and his skull seemed to smile; Javelin's display settled between navy and yellow (happiness); Trident had lost her anger completely and was actually smiling, although her face became black again when I looked at her. Mace's large eyes remained expressionless.

"I don't believe you," he said. "There have been reports about the LOL on television, and no mention of you."

"Of course not," I said, trying not to sound like I was explaining the obvious to an exceptionally thick child with limited success. "They wanted the world to think I was dead."

"Why didn't they just kill you?"

I looked at the floor. "I don't know."

A glaring omission in my reasoning, true though it was. Mace was obviously and understandably unconvinced.

"I don't believe you," he repeated slowly, as if now I was the thick child.

"Neither do I!"

My heart, until now on a steady upward gradient, took a hard tumble earthwards. I had known this moment would come from the moment I saw the feathers, but that could not prepare me for the disgust and humiliation I felt upon seeing the large golden bird, admiral's hat askew and chest feathers puffed out like a pigeon in mating season. My self-control pushed its limit as he strutted forwards and lazily slumped into my… Sorry, _what had been_ my chair.

"Well well," I hissed, fists clenched. "Captain Vul. How nice to see you again."

"That's _Admiral _Vul to you, shorty," he said, pointing out the new hat. "What are you doing here? Coming weeping back into the fold, eh?"

"I could ask you the same question."

Vul gave a harsh, squawking laugh. "Well, after the Meta-Knights' leader left them for a life of scum and villainy, I volunteered to fill the empty slot. They accepted me with open arms."

Javelin's screen, although cyan, was suffering from interference, and Axe was eyeing up the floor. They gave me the feeling that Vul had not experienced as little resistance as he claimed, which lit a flame of hope within my breast.

"All right," I said, still mindful of the weapons thrust towards me. "Now that all the Meta-Knights" (and Vul, I thought to myself) "are collected here, I have something to say to you all. I realise that deeds, not words, are needed to clear my name, but words seem a good place to start."

Vul yawned. "Speak your piece and then get out. We don't deal with traitors in the Meta-Knights."

I ground my teeth. That great feathery hypocrite! Nevertheless, I coughed slightly and spoke.

It was an adequate speech. Despite all the recitations I had done in my head I fluffed a few lines, and there were copious interruptions from the ill-mannered Vul. Gratifyingly, even Mace had grown tired of these by the end, shushing Vul impatiently. The speech was basically lots of apologies for my betrayal and resulting absence, my reasons, my acceptance that these reasons were essentially meaningless and what I planned to do to make up for them; and although no words could effectively convey the anguish that had torn at me from within, the thoughts of hara-kiri that had passed through my mind, still I felt that they did a sufficient job. It was at least long enough to make the others remove their armoury from my face and sit down.

"…but I cannot complete this plan without you," I ended, my voice impassioned. "I know that I have wronged you, and as I have said I regret it. But I long for the chance to prove that I have changed since my foolishness a year ago, and I beg for you to give it to me."

I stood stationary for a moment, sweating beneath the mask and waiting. The audience was watching me at different levels of rapt attention. After said moment had passed, Vul clapped slowly, got up from what had been my chair and spoke.

"Very eloquent, traitor," he sneered. "But let us suppose that we accept you back into the Meta-Knights, for a chance to put your little plan into action. You realise that would mean you working under me?"

Oh sweet Gods no. Cleansing was good, yes, but I could have murdered the entirety of the Knights and still not deserved that much cleansing. Vul must have noticed the pause, for his eyes locked smugly onto mine and he opened his beak to gloat.

"There's always 'The Duel'!"

Axe always spoke in a chirpy way that suggested too much coffee had dripped through his bones. It was the sort of thing that could make a man want to kill him and use his feet as doorstops, and yet now I shared his enthusiasm. The "The Duel" clause in The Code says that any dispute between Meta-Knights may be settled, with the agreement of both participants and a majority of the other Knights, by a Knights' Duel. Ever since that day in the schoolyard, nobody had wanted to challenge me to a Knights' Duel, but now Vul had no choice – although he could in theory veto the challenge in accordance with The Code, doing so would mark him out as a coward and Mace would probably take over as leader. With a look on his face that reminded me of a Cucco chicken just as Captain Falcon wrung its neck, he tried to think of another way out.

"But… but he's not a Meta-Knight any more!" he bwarked.

"Technically he is," said a grimacing Mace. "His own Code declares him a Meta-Knight until death." I silently thanked my foresight in including this at the back of The Code.

Vul looked at the others, frantically seeking escape, but found none. He was met by four inquisitive stares (if Javelin's could be called a "stare") and the angry but acquiescing eyes of Mace. He threw his wings to heaven and sighed.

"Fine!" he clucked. "All in favour of a Knights' Duel to decide hoo boy." He wiped his sweaty headfeathers before continuing. "…to decide who is to be the Meta-Knights' leader, please raise one hand now."

Axe's hand shot up immediately, confirming my belief that Vul had been less tolerant of his optimism than I had. Javelin's metal claw followed – I reckon it is harder to trick robots than the "alive". Mace unsurprisingly kept his hand down, as did Nautilus, which I supposed stemmed from me using his life as a bargaining chip and was fair enough. Trident's hands both remained attached to her trident, but her eyes were turned upwards (though away from mine) in consideration. Vul clearly missed this, and his squawk of triumph was cut short by her raised hand.

"Sure, why not?" said Trident, her voice indifferent. "At the end of the day they're both traitors, and while Meta may have done more wrong he has proven himself to be more consistently competent."

"Fine!" Vul croaked, turning his back. "That is just fine! We fight in the morning. But he's still a traitor for now. Chuck him in the cells!"

More cleansing. That was okay by me. But I had to talk to the stupid bird, to give him a chance, much though it pained me to do it.

"Vul!"

Mace and Axe had grabbed my arms, Mace roughly, Axe as if handling a china vase. Vul turned again, all kinds of hatred radiating from his face.

"You know that a Knights' Duel may go on to the death unless one fighter yields?" I said.

"Yes, I know!" said Vul, with a fiery glare.

"You know that you could just stand down to Mace, say, and avoid the fight altogether?"

"Yes, I know!" said Vul, with a contemptuous laugh.

"And you know that I'm not telling you this for _my _health?"

Vul maintained his proud stance as he swivelled around, but even while I was being dragged off I could see his shoulders droop, as if to say, "Yes, I know."

o o o

Galaxia, blade of champions…

It was this weapon I polished now, in my cell, and as I shined it with my cape I thought of the time when I had first wielded it. Even to be allowed into the presence of the blade was an honour – to be allowed to try and hold it, at the ripe old age of nineteen Pop Star years, was a privilege greater than any I could have expected, and one I was only granted due to swordsmanship so exceptional in the Dreamland army (my day job – the Meta-Knights were my hobby) that it had propelled me through the ranks and attracted the attention the higher-ups.

I was taken there by the supreme commander of the armed forces of Dreamland, a great swordsman himself, and his one-year-old son. He told me on the way how Galaxia would burn those it did not accept, and how on the advice of his superior officer he had attempted to grasp the blade. He showed me the burn scars and I winced.

It resided in a small cave, dank and dripping and lit only by the ethereal glow from the red jewel on its hilt. I could well believe that its yellow flame-like blade, made from still metal though it was, could burn the hands of the unwary. Yet the commander took his son off his shoulders and pushed me forwards. My confidence drained away as I unsteadily approached the sword's resting place.

My hand beneath my white glove shook as I reached it towards the blade and delicately touched it. Nothing happened – no unbearable pain, no smell of frazzled cloth. I seized the hilt with the same lack of effect, and pulled it loose. The chain that held it must have been centuries old, and fell apart easily. I swiped the blade a few times, and then threw it up in the air with reckless joy, as the commander cheered. Galaxia had chosen me as its wielder!

I failed to catch it, and sent it spinning across the floor towards my commander's feet. Then his son, hiding behind them, peeked out and inhaled deeply. He sucked the sword into his maw, pulled a face and spat it out again with no ill effects. Then he grabbed the hilt, looked solemnly at his father and said, "Goo."

That was Kirby. With no training, no effort, and whole days spent sleeping and eating, he was better than most people would ever be, and goodness did it grate. Every time I thought I'd upped my game, he could just grab a sword and mimic me exactly, or just inhale my sword, or just inhale me. The Meta-Knights' every attempt to save the kingdom from the greedy clutches of its self-proclaimed ruler "King" Dedede or (and I confess that as Kirby became more prolific this became our main goal) "accidentally" bump off the pink one was scuppered by Kirby's innate talent at inhaling and copying abilities, or just proving an expert at everything he took his hand to. Sometimes he would interfere with our plans to save Dreamland, spoil everything and then somehow manage to defeat the attacker anyway. And because of his undeniable cuteness and happy-go-lucky demeanour, Kirby became popular in a way a group of purple-armoured fighters could never hope to be.

The worst thing was that, notwithstanding the pink body and red feet, he looked almost exactly like a younger me beneath the mask.

"Galahad."

"Hello Trident," I said, without looking up.

I had been aware of the presence outside my cell for a while, although I had hoped that she would announce it in a slightly less detestable way. My mother always claimed that my first name was "noble" and "knightly", whereas I counterclaimed that it was stupid. I had been only too glad to drop it in favour of "Meta Knight". Now, only two people used it – Mace, when he felt like taunting me slightly, and Trident, who thought it "cute".

I looked up and saw that it was not, after all, Trident Knight, but Titania, the girl beneath the purple armour, a mint-green female of my species. When I looked up she jumped back, as if I was afraid that I should rush at her through the bars, and then looked rather disappointed that I did not.

"Why did you really come back?" she asked me in a stern tone.

I have always held that absolute honesty was the best approach, in the long one at least. In the short run, it frequently made me unpopular.

"To restore my honour in my own eyes and those of others," I said honestly.

"Including mine?"

"Of course." I had thought that was obvious from the context.

Trident's eyes sparkled in the torchlight; I could not be certain whether I had glimpsed tears. Her mouth formed itself into a wavering smile.

"That's sweet," she said.

I couldn't see it myself. Was it sweet to have betrayed my friends, my country and the whole world, and to now be slinking back grovelling for forgiveness? I told her this.

"Well, I think it's very big of you," she said. "Not many people would have had the guts to make up for their wrongdoings."

True. Then again, not many people would feel the unpleasant stickiness of regret as often as I did. All the same, one thing confused me.

"In which case, why did you called me 'that thing' when I came back?"

Now it was Titania's turn to look confused. "Well, I… Er… That is to say…" Her cheeks had gone bright scarlet by the time she gave me a parting glare and, turning through three quarters of a circle, coldly stalked off down the corridor.

I retrieved Galaxia and returned to my preparations for the duel tomorrow morning. On the whole, I felt that, given my previous acts and the fact that I had been allowed no time to prepare for the sudden interview, that little exchange had gone quite well.

o o o

My suggestion that we stage a takeover bid of Dreamland was met by the rest of the Meta-Knights' Inner Circle (Mace, Axe, Javelin and I) with surprise, but no objection. Dreamland's government was basically owned and run by King Dedede, who ruled through the military might of his Waddle Dee army, so nobody would miss its downfall and replacement. Besides, we all agreed that the main point of the venture would be to attract the attention of Kirby and then obliterate him. Actually taking over Dreamland was a secondary objective.

It seemed plausible enough at the time. The Knights had begun to take on recruits, and despite Kirby's popularity we managed to attract about fifty young hopefuls and train them in the arts of the blade, mace, axe or javelin. More importantly, as a gift for being the wielder of Galaxia the supreme commander of Dreamland's armed forces had put me in charge of a magnificent battle cruiser, and recently I had been receiving military grants towards upgrading it. (It did seem a bit cruel to use the commander's gift to destroy his son and potentially the army he commanded, but I was willing to go to almost any lengths in order to eliminate that pink blot on my landscape.) By the time the plan was in its final phases, the Halberd (as I named it) was the best-equipped ship on Pop Star, featuring obscene amounts of artillery, a special mega-gun called the Combo Cannon and its own on-board tank called the Heavy Lobster, all the weaponry and half the other functionality reliant on a Galaxia-enabled lock. Now all it needed was a helmsman and a captain to command it while I was fighting Kirby one-on-one.

The helmsman was a young Waddle Dee, who had spent a few years in Dreamland's navy before becoming disillusioned and giving it up to join the Meta-Knights. His Meta-Name was Nautilus, his trademark a small sailor's hat. The captain came direct from Dreamland's air force, and I signed him up more because of our shared hatred of Kirby ("He makes us all look bad!") and his skill in the air than because I liked him. His name, as you may have guessed, was Vul.

At last, everything was ready. After taking the ship out of Dreamland on the pretence of some aerial training, I gave the Knights their briefing while Vul flew us into Dreamland and blasted the seven bells out of some small settlements near Kirby's home town. This goes against section 1, clause 1 of the Code of the Meta-Knights, in which I firmly state that our objective is to help the innocent, not blow their villages to smithereens; but before I could take it up with Vul, Kirby was upon us.

I don't know how he did it. We managed to blast him off the ship _twice_, but he got back on, smashed both wings, the Heavy Lobster and the Combo Cannon, defeated me one-on-one and somehow got to safety. Despite the damage, it might have been possible to save the Halberd from a fate at the bottom of the sea, had its honourable captain not flown the coop. As a result, the thirty-four surviving Knights and I watched the ship descend into the ocean from five little jets.

Later we would pay the price for our actions. The Meta-Knights became an outlawed group in Dreamland, and most of the survivors left us, for which I cannot blame them. But there was a thin silver lining from my perspective – as I piloted the eight-man jet, tearing up with the frustration of failure and the loss of the Halberd, I was comforted by a mint-green Knight who, I had noticed, was more than usually skilled with the trident. Her name was Titania. I had met the future last member of the Meta-Knights' Inner Circle.

"Meta Knight, will you please enter the arena?"

I blinked. Back in the present day, the door in front of me had opened, and I walked out from my small side room into the largest whitest area in the Meta-Knights' base, set aside specifically for Knights' Duels. Trident, Axe, Javelin and Nautilus watched from the stands around the circumference, while Mace in the commentator's box spoke into his microphone with a rather bored expression.

"And the challenged party, Captain Vul. Will…"

He paused, and I noticed the small earpiece.

"Sorry," said Mace, sighing, "_Admiral_ Vul. Will _Admiral_ Vul please enter the arena?"

I allowed myself a half-smile. If the turkey went on like this, he might lose Mace's support by the end of the fight. Not that it made much difference. Knights' Duels were fought with the use of one weapon, and although I had heard of his proficiency with beak and talons I doubted that, restricted to one of the two, Vul could beat Galaxia.

"Booyah!"

…Although of course if he came in piloting a giant crustacean-shaped mech he might have a chance. It landed with a ground-shaking _thunk_.

"Meet the Heavy Lobster 2.0!" sneered Vul from behind a glass dome. "This is my one weapon, Meta. Let's see if Galaxia can scratch it!"

I racked my brains for some article in the Code that might bar Vul from entering with a metal lobster, but for some reason it had never occurred to me to write a sub-clause saying "no metal lobsters may be used in Knights' Duels". I looked with pleading eyes at Mace, who was staring with utter indifference at the centre of the room.

"Let the duel… begin."

The Heavy Lobster 2.0 lurched forward, making another _thunk_ as it landed, and lashed out at me with two massive claws. I barely dodged them, feeling the air rush past me as I evaded. I flew up to the main body of the mech and gave it an experimental tap with Galaxia. The blade pinged off in a way that assured me that if I tried to take the Lobster down with my sword alone, I would end up breaking the most powerful weapon on old Pop Star.

As I dodged the Lobster's fire-spitting mouth, my mind was racing. If I could not take the Lobster head-on (and I couldn't), I would have to find some other way to win. I thought of its pilot – either blessed or cursed with a teeth-gritted determination to succeed at any cost (despite his lack of teeth) which often rendered him blind to anything else. As he threw everything the Halberd possessed at Kirby, he was indifferent to the survival of the ship itself, going so far as to suggest that bringing it down with Kirby trapped inside was our best move. Surely I could turn this against him? Whoops – mind that claw.

A-_ha_. All too easy.

Cannons on the sides of the Lobster opened up and peppered the area around me with red laser fire as I flew around the arena. I landed on one of the stands and stuck my middle finger up at the mech.

"Ya boo sucks to you, you stupid guinea fowl," I said, thinking of Sonic and Captain Falcon as I did so. "I hear that your mother is a female dog, and also chronically obese."

"What you say?" squawked the astonished Vul.

Well might he have been astonished. It was not often that I lowered myself into what I felt was playground vernacular. However, I continued to flip the bird at the bird and threw in a little dance for good measure.

"Yes," I continued. "A reliable source tells me that she will also sleep with anybody, and has thus contracted seventeen different STIs."

Vul's aggravated cawing was barely audible over the sound of the Lobster bearing down at 75 kph, missing me as I leapt out of the way and instead doing some serious damage to the innocent seating. It drew a set of astonished gasps from the peanut gallery.

"I can see why she might have to," I said, alighting on some stands closer to where the audience of four sat. "Beggars can't be choosers. And believe me, anyone that overweight and disfigured would have to beg."

The fire breath rushed towards me, coupled with another volley of laser fire. The lasers nearly singed my cape this time, but I was airborne again and out of the firing line before the shouts of dismay from the audience had died.

"Watch where you're firing, you great partridge!" shouted Trident.

"Shut up!" shrieked Vul at me. "My mother is a fine upstanding bird!"

"Sometimes," I said, delivering my coup de grâce: "Mostly she does it lying down."

The Lobster came thundering down on me, its claws flailing, and struck heavily several times where I had been. Unfortunately for Vul, that happened to be the commentary box. Mace stood petrified, his large eyes transfixed on the pincers stuck through the glass inches from his nose. For a while, all was deathly still.

"I hereby declare you disqualified from the Duel by reason of section twelve clause four sub-clause one as your actions in this Duel have put an innocent bystander in danger, and therefore claim the victory and reclaim the position of leader of the Meta-Knights," I said quickly from behind the Lobster.

All I could see was the back of Vul's head, and that was mostly hat. Then it slowly turned around independently of the mech, a strangled expression on its front. Vul emitted a sound I can only write as "Bwark!" and looked at Mace for confirmation. Mace, having at last retained his composure, coughed and angrily picked up the microphone.

"Hm, yes, er, I declare Meta Knight the winner of this ARGH!"

The Lobster's pincers were yanked out of the commentary box's windows, the glass shattering like Vul's façade of respectability.

"I'm gonna cut you into tiny pieces!" he yelled, charging. The last thing I remember before everything went black was the sight of a furious albatross-raptor thing commanding a massive metal arthropod, which was rushing at me at 75 kph with fire protruding from its gullet.


	10. 4 Envy ii

It was some time later that I was walking down a corridor deep within the base, accompanied by Axe. This was after I had been informed that Mace had set off a small EMP in the arena, installed beforehand just in case Vul attempted something stupid. It had the unfortunate side effect of taking out the lights as well. When order and visibility were restored, the Heavy Lobster had been abandoned, there was a hole in its glass dome and Vul was nowhere to be seen.

After that was my swearing in as new leader of the Meta-Knights conducted by Mace, who did not try to disguise his contempt or distrust. Javelin, Nautilus and Trident also viewed the event with differing amounts of scepticism – only Axe seemed unabashedly enthusiastic, which may have been why it was the jabbering little skull who now conducted me towards our hangar.

"I'm so glad you came back, Meta!" he wittered. "I mean, I know you're a traitor, and that you left us to join the LOVE and take over Dreamland and all that…"

Yes, thank you, Axe.

"…but I always think it's possible for people to make up for past sins. And, well, Vul wasn't a very nice guy. He kept telling me to shut up. Is there anything wrong with liking to talk! I mean, I know I like to talk, but talking's what makes the world go round blah blah waffle drone" (I forget what he said here) "going to kick some ass! Am I talking too much! You just tell me if I'm talking too much, okay! Am I talking too much!"

Axe had been like this ever since I had first known him. The trick was to try not to listen too hard, otherwise the brain would be overwhelmed by the deluge of verbosity. Fortunately, I had enough on my mind, such as what my plans were, how I could regain the support of the Knights and whether it would still be necessary to disembowel myself afterwards to reclaim my tarnished honour.

"And here we are! Behold the Meta-Knights' new project!"

The hangar doors opened. Inside the massive space where the Halberd would once have rested, launching through what seemed to all the world to be an abandoned warehouse, a smaller ship now resided, covered in scaffolding. In progress though it was, sufficient work had been done for me to recognise a main influence on its design.

"It's like the Halberd!" said Axe unnecessarily. "Only smaller and…"

"…and with a hideous stain on the front."

Where a mock-up of my mask should have resided, there was instead an ugly facsimile of Vul's face, the windscreen where his crazed blue eyes would have been.

"We can redesign the front now he's gone," said Axe hurriedly. "Only, see, it was his idea. We still have the blueprints for the Halberd, and he wanted to construct a smaller version we could use to attack Dedede in his palace. One that just required six of us to pilot."

That seemed like an oddly competent idea for Vul. An attack from the air was sensible, avoiding as it would the Waddle Dee army, especially as Sonic claimed he had dismantled Mecha-Kracko; hence why I had adopted it for my own scheme, although at conception I had thought of no fixed way of getting airborne. Without the Halberd proper, still sitting damaged as it was on the Archanean plains, and with King Dedede sitting on the other most powerful air vehicle in the galaxy, a mini-Halberd seemed to be the best way to go. But was it complete enough? I had less than five days before I was due to meet the League…

"We commence work on it immediately," I said. "I'll do as much as I can myself, but I want everybody spending every stray hour on this project. Start by getting the propulsion done, then the weaponry. The outer shell can come later. Comfort is not a priority. I want this thing to be able to get in the air, stay there and blast its way into Fort Dedede in three and a half days."

"Three and a half days!" gaped Axe.

"Are you a Meta-Knight or a parrot?" I snapped back. "You heard what I said! You can start work now; I'll round up the others, and we'll be with you in ten minutes."

"Y-yessir!"

I swept out in a flurry of sliced cape. Now I felt like a Meta-Knight again.

"Oh, and Axe?" I said over my shoulder.

"Yessir!"

"Get rid of that abomination on the front. _Now._"

o o o

Time passed.

For three and a half solid days we worked on the mini-Halberd. Construction had started shortly after I made my mistake, so I was surprised at how unfinished the craft was. It was as if Vul had been content to complete some feasible blueprints and then leave the ship proper to rot, which sounded just like him apart from completing the blueprints. I soon changed that ethos, and though I faced not a little grumbling we were soon working away as if I had never left.

The engine was a mess, the controls were all over the place, the boilers were inadequate, the jets underpowered, the cannons weak and insufficient in number, the shielding non-existent and the front of the ship hideous beyond belief, but apart from these minor setbacks some good work had been done. And I mean "some", not "a lot". In my rare breaks between tinkering with weaponry, steering and plumbing, I wondered why Vul had even bothered with the project in the first place. Something about it smelt not quite right.

At last, as the evening of the fourth day of work approached, the vehicle was recognisable as a small warship. It had a working engine, and Javelin's extensive computer simulations showed that it should fly so long as the wind was not too strong, and might even survive a shot or two. I felt proud of my work, and of the elbow grease I personally had put into it. There's no solvent for washing away mistakes quite like one's own sweat. In addition, my workforce seemed to tolerate me more as the period went on; Mace even inquired after my health when I seemed feverish that last evening. I had to sweep the inquiry away – I did not want anyone to know exactly what I was doing before I did it.

And time passed.

o o o

I had to hand it to King Dedede. Of all the numerous plans he had vomited forth to rid Dreamland of Kirby, teleporting the entire country away from Pop Star while Kirby was abroad was one I would never have thought of; partially because I had believed it to be impossible, as would most sane people.

It was some time after the Halberd incident, and the eponymous ship had been dredged up from the bottom of the sea and repaired at great cost. Kirby was away on holiday, and I was considering doing the same thing when I looked out of the ship one morning and saw the space around me turned green. There was a lot of whooshing and transportation noises, and then we stopped somewhere new.

It was a shocking turn of events. One moment we were the biggest country on a small planet; the next, Dreamland had been warped adjacent to the magnitude of Hyrule, and we were all feeling tiny and insignificant, not to mention a little confused. The "King" was the only one who seemed to know what was going on, so the entire population crowded round its TV sets and listened to the fat blue penguin enjoying the sound of his own voice.

The official story was that he had got fed up of Pop Star and, by moving us all to Nintendo, had given us a bit of a change of scenery he was sure we would all enjoy, as well as prosperous trade links with Hyrule under its new ruler Ganondorf. It was a feasible enough explanation, in accordance with Dedede's capricious nature, and that he gave not a fig for Dreamlanders outside the country at the time or those with family abroad was in character and utterly unsurprising. We did not find out until later that Ganondorf had captured Zelda and fed her Farore's Wind teleportation spell through a massive amplifier, first teleporting himself to the bizarre ringed planet his astronomers had spotted in the corner of the sky to negotiate with Dedede, then the entire country of Dreamland to Nintendo.

It was a classic example of pre-LOVE villain-villain teamwork. Both parties were interested only in squeezing the other for as much as they could – Dedede was not satisfied with the extra money he might make through trade and wanted some of Hyrule's wealth, while Ganondorf desired nothing less than complete control of Dreamland. Neither would co-operate further than the teleportation. While they fussed and debated and fought, the green-clad Link of Hyrule had swept in and saved Zelda, followed by the kingdom itself, leaving Ganondorf back at square one. Furthermore, the holes in Dedede's intelligence were revealed when it turned out that Kirby had been spending his holiday in southern Dreamland, with the result that Dedede paid for his "change of scenery" by being brained with his own mallet. But with Link having broken the amplifier beyond repair, and Zelda unwilling to power it again anyway, Dreamland and its inhabitants were stuck on Nintendo.

"Meta!"

I blinked. Trident was looking into my eyes, while the rest of the crew stared out of the windscreen with positive expressions. Javelin's optic panel was bright yellow. I was vaguely aware that there had been cheering.

"Sorry," I said, shaking my headbody. "I was enjoying a flashback. What's happened?"

"You idiot," she said, poking her trident at the rushing wind. "We've taken off! The mini-Halberd works!"

"Of course it works. I didn't ask Javelin to run endless simulations because I thought he would enjoy it."

I watched Trident walk off in a huff, put it down to it being her time of the month and looked out of the windscreen. The lights of The City looked like fireflies below us, sinking further as the mini-Halberd triumphed over gravity. Nautilus revolved the steering wheel gently in the direction of the large castle-like building that housed the government of Dreamland, said "government" consisting of King Dedede, King Dedede and King Dedede.

"What do we do once we get there, boss?" asked Axe from the control deck.

"Oh, just fly about a bit and annoy Dedede, I suppose."

"You don't have a clue what we're doing, do you?" sneered Mace.

Not quite true. I had a very clear idea what _I_ would be doing. All part of the cleansing.

"Captain!" squeaked Nautilus. "There's a squadron coming to meet us!"

I rushed and leapt towards the windscreen. This was implausible. We were a tiny dark ship against the night sky, with the Halberd's anti-radar technology. We should have been utterly undetectable, and yet rising from around the government building were, as the helmsman had said, about fifty… no, sixty…

"Captain, I'm getting eighty-one ships!"

I never was any good at estimating.

"Eighty-one?" I cried incredulously at Axe, who was on radar. "Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure! Maybe more, if some of them have working anti-radar!"

I pressed my mask up against the glass, not wanting to believe my eyes. There they were, an eighty-one-strong ugly mess against the cityscape, each craft looking awfully similar to…

Oh _no_.

"Captain!" yelped Nautilus.

"Yes, I know."

There he was, his ugly yellow beaked countenance staring back at me eighty-one times from over The City, looking irreparably smug and stapled onto the front of eighty-one copies of our craft.

"No..." breathed Axe, for once lost for words.

"He didn't…" gasped Mace, his eyes even larger than usual.

"TRAITOR!"

Nautilus gave me a look that questioned whether I was going to become a threat to his life again. He need not have worried; the only gullet I wanted clasped in my clenched fists was that of Admiral Bloody Look-At-My-Face Vul. And there, on the quickly assembled crackly communication monitor, was his face again, smug as ever.

"Guess what I did."

"You wormed your way back into the Meta-Knights," I hissed. "You abused their confidence to sneak a look at the Halberd blueprints and draw up plans for a smaller version. And all the while you were working for Dedede!" I was shouting now. "Have you no decency?"

Vul shrugged. "Birds of a feather flock together. Anyway, not like you can talk. Not with your track record."

There were all sorts of horrible, foul things I wanted to label him, but thankfully Trident saved me the need.

"You're more of a traitor than he'll ever be!" she cried, spraying the monitor with spit. "And a worse leader, and a bigger coward, _plus _you're ugly!"

That was nice of her.

"Oh, whatevah!" said Vul, making a "W" sign with his wingtips. "I'm not the one who'll end up in a charred, burnt wreckage on the city streets!" And he was gone.

"Is there no leader we can trust?" said Mace with a despairing look to the heavens.

There was a brief moment as I thought about whether this statement was worth responding to. Then I was saved the trouble as a volley of bright green laser fire ripped through the night sky, surrounding our ship in a blaze of chartreuse light. Miraculously the ship slid through the first salvo unharmed, but further fire continued to ring out over The City.

"Orders, Captain?" cried Nautilus.

"Charge the middle one," I replied, pointing out the craft dead centre. "Don't fire until you see the whites of its windscreen."

The mini-Halberd increased velocity and started rattling in a rather unsettling way. Lasers continued to illuminate our progress.

"Captain."

It was Mace who had spoken, his large eyes reflecting the green glow of the surrounding blitz. Since his last jibe at me, he had been looking steadily at the floor, evidently building up to the pronunciation of this distasteful title. Now it was out, he turned to me and gave me a sceptical yet acknowledging stare.

"If you do have a plan," he said, "I'd like you to tell us now." A short pause, and then, "Please."

They were flying into a massive fleet for my sake. It was the equivalent of taking on a tank armed with a rusty trowel and wearing a moth-eaten pair of boxers. More than that, I needed them to trust me, now more than ever, and it wasn't as if I had earned it particularly. I took a deep breath.

"When we pass over the government building, I shall jump from the cargo hatch on my own."

The cries of disbelief and "Oh Gods, he's finally flipped" were drowned out by Nautilus getting into range and Javelin switching the four turrets to "On". Our own green light streamed out and hit the centre ship, in which I was sure Vul had been preening himself, on the beak. The ships clearly had insufficient armour, for the target craft caught fire and toppled slowly earthward. It was immensely pleasing to see a familiar yellow dot emerge from the flames and attempt to abscond.

"After that," I continued, "I shall fly down to ground level and take Dedede on personally."

"You can't!" yelled Axe.

"It's suicide!" cried Nautilus.

"What on earth are you thinking?" shouted Trident.

Javelin waved his claws and displayed different colours, as if to say that all simulations of this exercise yielded the same negative result. I waited for Mace to add his declaration of madness to the group's. For a while, he continued to watch the battle.

Then he spoke. "Will it put you at peace with yourself?"

The rest of the Knights stared at him open-mouthed.

"I hope so," I said. "Will it put me at peace with you?"

The yellow dot was hit by a green beam from his own squadron. Once the smoke and feathers cleared, Vul was nowhere to be seen. Sucked to be him.

A sudden jolt told us more clearly than Nautilus could that the craft had been hit. Our little ship was thrown violently to one side, the crew were thrown violently to the floor and the shielding on the right of the ship was thrown violently clear of it.

Mace was on his feet in an instant. "Don't just lie there, everyone! Nautilus, back at the wheel. Axe, back on monitors. Javelin, give 'em all we've got. Trident, help me with the cargo hatch."

"Do you want him dead?" shrieked Trident. "He'll get shot down the moment he…"

I put my hand on her stubby arm.

"Trident, please."

Her red dots linked briefly with mine, before throwing themselves into the air along with her hands. Then she was kneeling down beside Mace, hauling open one of the large metal shutters that separated us from the rushing wind and flashing beams below. The City, unaware of the cacophony in its skies, slept down below, or watched late-night television, or got thrown out of pubs. I prepared to follow the last share's example.

"Meta."

Trident's eyes looked almost pleading.

"If you don't come back alive… I'll kill you."

o o o

AAAAAAARGH…

It was utterly terrifying. Down, down, streaking through the night sky, my stomach seeming to drop slightly faster than the rest of me, and around me deadly green tendrils whistling through the wind. The government building rushed up towards me, its sharp edges and artificial metal crenellations waiting to impale my soft body.

Something else was coming towards me too, its wide eyes narrowed and its paintbrush extended. As I fell towards it, the paint formed itself into two sub machine-guns, which fired two blazing parallel lines. Wrapping myself in my cape, I whisked out of range and sank below the gun-toting Paint Roller, who sent himself into a dive and came after me. As the bullets hissed around my ears, I saw coming towards me a large grey cloud with four golden prongs and a single malevolent eye, its body Kracko-ling with lightning. Below that, in the building's central courtyard, hundreds of Waddle Dees, Waddle Doos and all sorts of Dreamland's races waited for Dedede's command.

Only now did I fully comprehend what I had just stepped in. It felt and smelt distinctly of dog faeces. I drew Galaxia from its sheath, preparing to try and fight Paint Roller and Mecha-Kracko at the same time, and all the while the fleet was homing in on me, the green lasers getting closer and closer to my position until one struck Paint Roller directly in the face.

Wait what?

Twisting awkwardly in the air, I saw that the ship charging towards me had a large copy of my mask on the front. Mecha-Kracko turned as well, and fixed its one eye on the beam that drilled straight through and into its core. Javelin had excellent aim, and Dedede had another repair bill to contemplate. Looking at where my eyes would have been, I thought that I saw Mace smiling through the windscreen, before there was a green flash and the ship lost a wing.

They would not give up, bless them. As the smoking craft flew lower, the guns turned to the courtyard and sent the Waddlers down below running for cover. For a moment I had to choke back a tear of pride and a fear that they would not survive. But if they were giving their lives to my cause, it would be ungrateful for me just to hover and watch. I dived further, skimming over the mêlée of scampering soldiers, and all but unnoticed flew into the halls of the building.

Inside the pristine beige corridors with their mauve carpets and their yuccas, the silence was almost eerie compared to the clamour outside. My wings reverted to cape form as I scurried gracelessly through the building, following the signs with three capital letter "d"s on. The place was not entirely abandoned – Waddle Dees peered out, cowering, from behind their desks. I thought about telling them to get some backbone, but this would have been pointless given a Waddle Dee's lack of back, so I kept quiet and proceeded.

It was not hard to spot the centre of operations. It had massive red double doors with golden depictions of the penguin himself giving a v-sign on them. I pushed them apart and found myself in a massive office, decorated with red velvet, fruit peels and sweet wrappers. Camera monitors on one wall displayed different viewpoints of Dreamland at different levels of crackly-ness. A few, including no doubt the one cybernetically inserted into Mecha-Kracko's eye, were completely on the blink, as would I have been had I not dodged the massive mallet that swung down where I had been a second ago.

The penguin shouldered his massive hammer, glaring at me with sweat running down his beak. Stupid, wearing a fur-trimmed robe and bobble hat indoors.

"I've come to reclaim my honour," I told him.

"I should have killed you long ago!" said Dedede, swinging the mallet horizontally. I hopped neatly over the swing.

"But you didn't. I've always wondered why that was."

He said nothing for a moment. I looked curiously at his face, and followed his piggy eyes to Galaxia. Then I laughed.

"Even when I was unconscious, you couldn't outfight me!" I said. Or Galaxia: one of the two, I didn't say. "What on Nintendo makes you think you can now?"

It was a horrible moment, watching that rubbery beak curve into a smile. Dedede had a beak and teeth, and now they combined to form a hideous grin that made my stomach churn.

"Oh, I don't," the grin said. "But I won't be fighting you."

Oh _no._

o o o

Why did I join the LOVE? Why did I abandon all honour, all nobility, and the Meta-Knights in order to join a multi-villain conglomerate? What made me take this step, apparently so contrary to my nature?

Kirby.

After Dreamland's interstellar journey, Kirby continued to save the country from all threats as if nothing had happened, with a smile and a dance and a shout of "Hai!" The Meta-Knights were as out of a job as we had ever been, and I was spending less and less time with the group. What was the point?

Then Dedede came along.

This was shortly after the falls of Hyrule and the Mushroom Kingdom, and the whole planet was still in shock, except perhaps for Dreamland. We were still getting used to living in a new galaxy, for Gods' sake. Nothing could shock us now. But when King Dedede called me to a secret meeting and explained the new rules of the interplanetary game, I was shocked too. Furthermore, I was being offered a position as a player.

I would have refused at once, of course, and joined the resistance. It would be a chance for the Meta-Knights to shine again. What use had I for power anyway? But Dedede pointed out that there was one substantial hindrance to taking over Dreamland, and that hindrance was pink and overly optimistic. He had given me a brief outline of SubSpace power, despite knowing next to nothing about it himself, and pointed out what a foe Kirby might become if he absorbed some of it. If instead I helped him capture Kirby…

Kirby trusted me. He was young and impressionable, and I was older and wiser. Certainly I had tried to destroy him more than once, but the rest of the time I was trying to help Dreamland; so when I told him that the country was in grave peril (true) and asked him to meet me in a secret place, near which King Dedede would be hiding with a SubSpace-powered gun, the pink blob trusted me implicitly. Did I feel awful? I did. Did it give me a brief moment of incredible satisfaction and Schadenfreude? Yes.

I would then spend the next year and a bit regretting my decision, of course, and never more so than when at this moment a thick boulder fell from the roof, alerting me that a Project Z clone of Kirby was present and had absorbed a stone ability from someone or something. Indeed, the stone quickly reverted into a stubby-armed pink blob with red feet and a glittering blue stare. He waved pleasantly at me, before charging me with mouth wide open.

"You cheap cad!" I said, taking to the air. "Getting your worst enemy to do your work for you!"

As I narrowly dodged the puffball's cavernous maw, I noticed the purple glinting in the depths, the same lustre as the beam Dedede's gun had shot at the original Kirby all those months ago. After all my hard work, betrayal and feelings of deep regret, Kirby (or a clone of him) had absorbed SubSpace power anyway. In quick succession, the clone swung a purple sword, a purple laser whip and a purple mallet, about as big as Dedede's own, all in the blink of an eye, while the King watched on from his swivel chair and ate smoky bacon crisps.

I lunged at the crisp packet, Galaxia outstretched, but suddenly Kirby was in my way again, smiling and swiping with his own shiny sword. Weapons clashed, and instead of cleaving straight through his blade as Galaxia should have done it bounced off with a clang. While I ricocheted, Kirby floated over with air-filled cheeks and brought his laser whip back out, lashing at me and catching a blow on the mask that the metal did not absorb all the force of. Now he held a microphone, and Kirby's vocal chords were setting my ear holes on fire with pain, stunning me in a brief moment before a large pink wheel crashed into me and sent me flying into the wall.

"Oh dearie me!" said Dedede, his laughter spraying crisp-spit everywhere. "It's so sad to watch. Kirby thrashed you even when he didn't have every copy ability under the sun. Now it's not even funny any more!" He choked on a crisp to disprove his point.

When I opened my eyes, there were Kirbies everywhere, clones of the clone. I span into a Mach Tornado and charged at the slightly more corporeal version, tangling him up in a gust and making the clones disappear. The attack hurled him up into the air, and I just avoided the stone crashing back down. Then he was Kirby again, and charging at me with fists burning with the fury of the Falcon Punch, only moving four times as fast. As I whisked out of the way of this, preparing for another sword swipe, I felt my body judder as Kirby pre-empted me and struck at Galaxia before it could even start the slash; and as I wobbled, he opened that mouth, and I felt my feet lose their grip, and watched as everything went dark.

It was amazing, the amount of time over the years I had spent in the pink prat's throat. It had grown almost relaxing, just sitting in the darkness and the warmth, listening to Kirby's slight breathing and his heartbeat. It was oddly but thankfully saliva-free in there. I wasn't scared of being swallowed, because Kirby never did. This time was less relaxing than previously, because the Kirby clone had a shiny purple gullet, but I knew that all I could do was wait…

…and I was out. I never knew how I seemed to leave his mouth, since he didn't open it, but the important thing was that I had to be ready with sword drawn, because now he would have absorbed Galaxia and…

I stared at him. He stared at me. He had copied my mask.

"And I looked from Kirby to Meta, and from Meta to Kirby, and from Kirby to Meta again; but already it was impossible to say which was which!" cackled Dedede, reaching for another packet.

He looked exactly like me. Well, not exactly – he lacked the purple boots and shoulder pads, and I lacked the manic blue eyeshine, but other than that he looked exactly like a pink version of me. And if I took off my mask, I would look exactly like a blue version of him.

I took off my mask. I looked exactly like a blue version of him. It shut the penguin up, at least.

As my yellow eyes locked with his sparkling blue ones, I contemplated the similarities between us (well, between me and the non-evil clone version). We had both started off trying to save the world from the forces of evil (before I went onto trying to mash Kirby into a marshmallowy mess), we were both accepted by Galaxia, we had the same floaty jumping if you counted my wings and we both had a propensity to go red around the jowls at the slightest provocation.

But at heart, we were so very different. Kirby was _nice_. Granted, he never had to contemplate the great moral dilemmas of the day, or make informed decisions about good and evil – his were always cases where there was a clear-cut "bad guy" vs. him. But he always risked his life to save the people from oppression. He never joined them out of stupid vengeance. He never even felt the need for vengeance.

Kirby was _good_; I was _bad_. That was the difference.

And now, as he raised a purple crackling version of Galaxia above his headbody, he paused and looked me in the eye. A slight tear was running down my cheek, pink with embarrassment to think that here was a (clone of a) being so innately better than myself. Even in the evil-consumed Project Z clone, Kirby-ness shone through as my foe, dropping its sword, made an inquisitive "Ooh?" sound.

"Kirby, what are you doing?" cried Dedede through his crisps. "Kill him now!"

Kirby looked at his sword as if seeing it for the first time. I felt that it was time to blow the penguin's mind through the top of his bobble hat, and sheathing Galaxia I waddled over and held my breath. There he was, and there I was.

Time to complete my penance. I swallowed my pride.

I gave Kirby a hug. In the background, there was the sound of somebody dropping his crisps.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into Kirby's ear hole. "I'm sorry I betrayed you, Kirby. I'm trying to make up for it now. I'm going to find you in prison, and break you out, and then we'll stop the LOVE together. Everything will be okay."

Dedede's beak hung open, half-digested crisps plainly visible.

"I concede, Kirby," I said, my mind boggling at what my mouth was saying. "You're a better fighter than me, and you always will be. And perhaps, as a better person, you deserve to be. I acknowledge you as my superior, and promise never to be envious of your skills again."

I disengaged from the hug, still slightly stunned. Kirby looked at me for the moment, before the mask disappeared as he dismissed his copy ability. The confused expression gave way to a big beaming smile.

"Hai!"

And in a blast of purple glitter, he was gone. No fuss, no mess. No lording it over me. Just innocent acknowledgement of my apology, and a friendly good-bye.

"What in the name of all that's tasty did you just do?" said Dedede slowly.

"Very clever of you, using my worst enemy to stop me," I said, restoring my mask. "Sadly, you forgot that it's impossible to make Kirby truly evil. His goodness will always shine through."

"What sort of cheesy bullshit is that?" wailed the fat bird.

"The sort of 'cheesy bullshit' that means you created a clone that would rather blow itself up in sheer joy than kill someone who had given it a hug and said sorry."

I was myself again, and Galaxia was levelled at the fat penguin's crisp-stuffed throat.

"Why don't you try giving me a hug, Dedede?" I asked. "See whether I forgive _you_."

"You should be grateful to me!" cried Dedede, risen from his chair and sweating afresh. "I was the one who gave you all those grants for Halberd equipment!"

Of course he was. Obvious now. Anything to get rid of Kirby.

"And also thanks to you and your friends it's now irreparable," I exaggerated. "All I owe you is a sword in the oesophagus."

The King was scampering around the room now, dropped crisps splintering beneath his boots, but he had nowhere to run. Despite my stubby legfeet, I was faster than the fat penguin would ever be.

"Time for my revenge, Dedede!" I shouted. "This is for my ship, and for my country, and for Kirby. But most of all, this is for…"

"Dragoon!"

Oh Gods. Why me? Why did it always happen to me? There he was, a lumbering fat penguin with the top speed of a… fat penguin, and in his hand he had the most powerful air vehicle in the galaxy, a small red and white jet apparently nowhere near large enough for the penguin's mighty posterior, and yet now he was climbing onto it with fire gently humming at one end.

"You may have won the battle, Meta Knight, but some day I'll be back and then I'll get you! You'll never catch me!"

There was a loud whoosh and Dedede was careening violently out of a window, balanced precariously atop his tiny craft and screaming loudly. The screaming stopped when he crashed beak-first into the mace ball somebody had swung just outside the window, knocking him off the Dragoon as it flew off on a journey of its own. Perhaps it would end up back on Pop Star. Who knows? For now, I looked out of the window, where Mace stood proudly over the unconscious Dedede, the other Knights fending off the Waddle Dee army with their sharp objects of choice.

"This reprobate giving you any trouble, Captain?" Mace asked.

"Not at all," I said, smiling beneath the mask. "He was just trying to avoid having to clean up his crisps."

o o o

I sat and watched a star move across the sky. Somewhere out there, my home planet was orbiting its own little star, its inhabitants probably still worrying where one of their countries had left them for. Not that I could see it, though, due to all the light pollution from The City; and as I watched, the star I could see flashed and flew behind a cloud.

I was sitting up on the top of the ex-government building, time two fifty-seven a.m., gazing into the night sky and trying to convince myself that I'd done what I came here to do. I'd taken out Dedede, now sitting in one of his own cells; I'd made it up to the Knights; I'd found the SubSpace Key hidden in a vat of wine; I'd apologised to Kirby… Except I hadn't.

I heard the skylight open. I had used my wings to climb to my vantage point, but someone who was enthusiastic enough could get a ladder set up and climb out onto the roof. I recognised the soft footsteps all too well, and turned away as someone sat down next to me.

"Hey shorty," that someone said, in a voice that suggested a smile. "Everyone else is partying in the building's banquet hall. Don't wanna join in?"

I was certain that the kitchens that had until four hours ago served King "Fatso" Dedede held enough delectable foodstuffs and fine drink, all bought with taxpayers' money, to host the party of the obese waddling millennium; but I didn't feel my stomach could stomach it.

"Not hungry, Titania," I replied.

"Why on earth not?" she asked, putting a hand on my shoulderpad. "You're a hero, Galahad! You've redeemed yourself in everybody's eyes."

Everybody's but my own, and his. It had been liberating to apologise to a Kirby clone, but somewhere in the world the real hero lay, incarcerated due to my own envy and stupidity, and it was a day and a half until I might have some chance of being able to make up for it. And being called Galahad just made it worse.

"I have to go back to Hyrule Field tomorrow."

"For Gods' sake, Meta, why can't you just accept that you've done well for once? Even Mace is proud of you. I mean, sure, you helped the LOVE take over Dreamland and made lots of people miserable, and technically we're still under LOVE control, and it's thanks to you…"

Yes, thank you, Titania.

"…but none of that matters any more! You've come back, restored yourself and the Meta-Knights to glory, and…"

"No I haven't!" I shouted into the night, dropping the heavy façade of indifference. "My mistake is still stuck there, as large and adhesive as ever!"

"What?" asked Titania reasonably.

"Never mind. Just a metaphor. But the point is that whatever I've done, it can't wash away the past. I'll always have that guilt upon my shoulders. However much I try to make up for it, I'll always be a villain to Dreamland. I've been on the wrong side of the line for too long." I sighed. "I have no honour left."

Looking back and listening to myself moaning, it would have been thoroughly reasonable for Titania to give me a trident-poke up the arse and tell me to pull myself together. However, she listened patiently and, when I had finished, stretched her stubby arm as far around my back as it would go.

"I think you're still honourable."

I looked into her eyes, reflecting the light of the city back into my own. She really did believe that, didn't she? In her eyes, I had saved myself. And if I could find salvation in her eyes, might I not find it in those of others? My black heart showed signs of light.

It was while thinking this that I noticed her face was moving imperceptibly closer to mine, her mouth slightly open. Was she trying to eat my mask? No – as she edged closer, she slid one hand underneath it and then, horror of horrors, I realised that she was trying to pull it off. Time to act.

"Come on," I said, jumping up quickly and yanking my mask out of her grubby paws. "Don't want to miss the party, now, do we?"

As I glided off the roof, leaving Titania to make her own way down, I smiled to myself. There would be time later for regrets, time to rue the past some more, time to ruminate upon my sins. For now, I had to acknowledge that I had done the best I could, and that I would keep doing so, and that just for a small moment, just for now, I could do something I should have tried long ago.

I could close the folder.

**5**

**1 ****And the Crazy Hand did after a long while approach the Master Hand, looking as pleased with itself as a Hand feasibly can. ****2 ****And the Master Hand did say unto it, "What pleases you, kindred spirit? And the usual disclaimer about your funny noises." ****3 ****So did the Crazy Hand once more rethink what it was about to say, and spoke as follows. **

**4 ****"Look what I have made from SubSpace, fellow spirit! It bears the shape of a man!" ****5 ****And it produced from the SubSpace a small figure, and it had a head, and a body, and arms, and legs, and feet, and hands, and a giant nose. ****6 ****And the Master Hand, although not owning any eyes, could see that from whichever direction this figure was looked at, it seemed to be a two dimensional infinitely black representation of a man, moving jerkily. **

**7 ****And the Master Hand did say unto the Crazy Hand, "You asked me to create SubSpace for this? You could just have asked for Play-Doh." ****8 ****And the Crazy Hand did respond, "What is this Play-Doh you speak of?" ****9 ****So did the Master Hand give the Crazy Hand several tubs of Play-Doh and show it how to make a man out of it. And the Crazy Hand did emit several funny noises in its glee, and made several strange figures out of the substance. ****10 ****And the flat man of SubSpace was left alone, forgotten and purposeless.**


	11. 5 Greed i

**§5 Greed**

"I expect you have some questions to ask me."

Wario wanted to say, "Nah, what made you think that?" but somehow Zelda's elegance and serenity prevented him from being sarcastic. All the same, it was a bit of a stupid question. Zelda, a beautiful graceful princess, had chosen to take him, a smelly rude ex-LOVE member, with her on her journey to Hyrule to find a SubSpace Key. She had just warped him using magic to what appeared to be an abandoned village, complete with dilapidated houses and sand-strewn alleys and swinging signs that creaked in the breeze, and was now asking if he had any questions. Start small.

"Why didn't you just use Far… Faro…"

"Farore's Winde to escape from my room in Hyrule Castle, you mean?" said Zelda. "Ganondorf knows about that particular spell. He installed magic shields in the room. It resulted in me hitting the wall quite hard." She rubbed the back of her head experimentally.

Wario nodded. If Yoshi had been here, he would have known how it felt.

"And where…?"

"A small village, hidden from prying eyes in Eastern Hyrule. Nobody comes here any more, so it's a safe location for training."

Halfway through the nod, Wario checked himself. "Training?"

Zelda started to walk away. Despite the fact that her long skirt was as old, as filthy and as moth-eaten as his own disguise, when Zelda walked she could have been on a catwalk modelling an haute couture dress. It just somehow seemed to work on her. Wario, waddling on his stubby legs to keep up, burned with jealousy. Nothing seemed to work on him.

"Wario," said Zelda, "what would you like most in the world?"

COINS NOTES JEWELS TREASURE MONEY POWER… Ahem. Wario choked these thoughts down. Zelda surely would not have posed the question if the answer were that obvious. He tried to think seriously.

What would he like most in the world? Well, it wouldn't hurt to be a six foot three stud with a cute nose who women fawned over, but was that deep enough to appeal to the spiritual Zelda? Probably not. Let's get a little deeper – why did he want to be a hot stud? Well, the sex would be nice, of course, but that probably wasn't what she was going for. Sex training with Zelda, while an attractive proposition, seemed about as likely as Ganondorf phoning up to say that he had forgiven him implicitly for betrayal and offering him fifteen million Mushroom Kingdom coins to come back. And then not killing him when he took up the offer.

So, apart from sex what things had he wanted on his journey? Peach not to treat him like a smelly worm, for one; people to look unhappy when he was forced to run after merchants rather than having dinner with them; everyone not to stare at him with undisguised malice when he tried to sing along; people to want to sit next to him in the Pork Bean. Four off the top of his head. Could they be grouped into one category?

"I guess I… I want to be better at making friends," he said with a pious expression.

He assumed from Zelda's indulgent smile that this was an appropriate response, and decided to press the advantage.

"And I guess I'd like to be more attractive to women, too."

Zelda's face creased slightly, but only for a second. Then it was calm again.

"I was thinking about helping you with those matters," she said. "The first one, at least."

Wario's thick eyebrows creased. "Is that why you volunteered to take me with you? Some sort of charity mission?"

"Consider it repayment for unjustly accusing you of stealing rations aboard ship."

As Zelda drew to a stop in front of the biggest shed (for want of a better word) in the village, she turned to Wario and smiled at him. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with what might have been genuine happiness. Maybe she thought that she would enjoy "training" him. Wario thought it best to set the record straight.

"But Zelda," he protested, "look at me. I'm short, podgy, rude, I fart a lot and I have garlic breath and a messed up nose. Do you have some magic spell that can fix all that? Because if you don't…"

"No," said Zelda, orbiting him serenely and inspecting the grubby man in the grubby clothing. "No such spell exists, as far as I know. And what you say is true. Your subcutaneous fat store, diminished as it has been from journeying, is still fuller than would be ideal for an attractive man. You are little in height and distasteful to the eye. Your customary aroma reminds me of a badly maintained compost heap, and you have an extraordinary knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time."

Admitting it yourself was one thing. Hearing a beautiful woman recite it back to you was another much more distasteful one.

"However," Zelda continued, standing still and looking into Wario's piggy eyes, "I still believe I can help. Not all the problems can be corrected, of course – I cannot make you taller without the aid of those ridiculously high shoes the young men wear nowadays."

"Or heels," volunteered Wario, trying to be helpful.

Zelda looked at his bulging man's feet before resuming. "But there are other areas we can work on. Your manners, for example, and your flatulence. Perhaps with a little bit of work even your moustache could become an asset."

There was a flash. Standing in Zelda's place was a manlier figure that Wario recognised from the confrontation with Galleom, dressed in a tight blue costume and with red eyes poking out from under the white headscarf. It was still Zelda, though: the long legs and constrained bosom, combined with the regal stance, remained unchanged. Zelda's hand, its long fingers now wrapped in bandages, was holding a metal chain that crackled slightly with electricity.

"As from now, you will address me as 'Sheik'," said the figure in a firm alto. "If you want to succeed, you will do everything I say without question. Any deviation from the path I set you on, and you will answer to The Chain. You will learn to love and fear The Chain, for it will make you better through agony."

The headscarf hovered inches away from Wario's mouth, stretched into a petrified grimace.

"Do you want to succeed, you grotty little worm?" it whispered.

Wario nodded frantically, his eyes fixed on The Chain.

"Good," said Sheik, standing again. "Your first task will be to shed some of those pounds. I want you to run five times around the village. I will be following you, to make sure you keep running."

"Five times?" said Wario despondently. "But I can't…"

The Chain flashed out and caught Wario on his fat stomach. There was a crackle, a spark and Wario was clutching his belly, crying out in pain.

"I'm sorry: I didn't quite catch that," said Sheik, cracking The Chain like a whip. "Would you like to repeat it for me?"

Wario whimpered in the negative.

"Round the village. Five times. Move it!"

Tears running down his face, Wario picked himself up and, panting already, started on the long and painful journey that would take him five times around the village, thinking that Zelda was much nicer than Sheik.

o o o

Time passes.

Very slowly, as it seemed to Wario. Five and a half days of waking up to the sound of The Chain lashing against the ground next to his elfin ear, followed by running around the village until his legs fell off; then Sheik disappeared in an explosion and returned with a minimal breakfast of no garlic content, followed by brushing of the teeth, an entirely new concept. Then they would go into a tumbledown house and drink tea from bone china, while Sheik tested Wario on manners and whipped him lots. He never found out how the tea got through her headscarf without leaving a stain.

Lunch was like breakfast, and then after combing his hair and using this horrible-tasting liquid called "mouthwash" it was a warp into the city to talk to people. Sheik would initiate the conversation, and then leave Wario to talk to whoever the unfortunate participant was, be it old man, mucky schoolchild or young and beautiful woman. Wario was especially bad at the last category, because his words were either filthy in content or got stuck in his throat, but he knew that should he fail to make an effort The Chain would be waiting for him when they returned; so he struggled to make small talk and suppress innuendoes, and then he was being whisked onto the next poor passer-by.

That finished, it was another warp to Lake Hylia, where Wario would be put through more gruelling physical activity, twisting his body in ways he had thought impossible. At the end, reeking with sweat, he would pollute the crystal clear and very cold waters by submerging his body in them. When he came out and got dressed, Sheik would brush out his hair and moustache and then warp him back to the village for dinner.

It was a grisly ordeal, unlike anything the relaxed and happily disgusting Wario had ever put up with before. Nonetheless, every night he went to bed feeling a little fitter, a little more charming, a little less like a "grotty little worm". Sheik's parting words got kinder every night, her red eyes a bit softer. By the evening of the fifth day, as had been foretold, Wario even felt a bit of affection for The Chain.

And time passes.

o o o

"Can I pass you the sugar, madam?"

His voice was soft, his manner was suave, his touch on the sugar bowl was tender. His own brother would not have recognised the man with the finely combed moustache and the immaculate fingernails. Not a miracle worker, Sheik had been unable to reduce the stomach into a six-pack in five days, and his nose still resembled a strawberry more than anything else, but there was an undeniable roguish charm about the new Wario that finally caused Sheik to rise from her seat, drop The Chain and lower her headscarf to reveal Zelda's beaming features.

"Well done," she said, her red eyes fading through purple back to blue. "I'm proud of you, Wario. You've come so far in just five days. Now, offer a..."

"Powerful Din, wise Nayru, brave Farore," said Wario, clasping his hands, "thank you for this fine tea upon which we sup, and for… er… everything else as well. Our ladies."

The prayer had contained a giveaway sign that nor had Wario's personality completely remade itself. He still thought that the Hylian goddesses were a fairy tale for the ignorant, and he still secretly hoped that Zelda's transformation would go wrong and that instead of getting her dress back, she would accidentally find herself with nothing on at all. But the change was sufficient, and as the dirty robes fastened themselves around Zelda's figure there was a pearly teardrop on the princess' face.

"Wario," she said, "you are a marvel. Truly, you are living evidence that the Goddesses of Hyrule exist, and miracles do happen!"

Wario's internal eye rolling was cut short by the light kiss Zelda planted on his cheek. He put his hand over the spot to try and maintain the feeling. Zelda smiled gently at the look of astonishment on the moustachioed face.

"Come," she said, "take my hand. We still have a job to do, remember?"

Wario had forgotten all about the SubSpace Key. Reluctantly exposing the lip marks to the air, he placed his hand in hers, no longer feeling like the Beast with Beauty, but rather Prince Charming with… All right, that was stretching it. Besides, Prince Charming was a boring character. He would rather be the Dark Knight, enigmatic, handsome, and…

"Farore's Winde!"

…and still prone to slight tummy upsets upon travelling by magic.

o o o

The green light receded, and they were standing in streets even sandier than the ones they had left. There were differences, though – the buildings had been patched up, footsteps were visible in the sand and along the side of the road, brightly coloured desert flowers were in bloom.

"Ganondorf's work," said Zelda without emotion. "He likes plants and greenery. It always surprised me why his bedroom was so purple when he's gone to such lengths to make Hyrule green."

"At least that's something going for him," said Wario.

Zelda shook her head. "Guess what he puts in the fertiliser. If you're lucky you might see them playing in the street."

Wario shuddered slightly. Then he walked after Zelda down the dusty streets.

"This another abandoned village?" he asked.

Zelda shook her head again. "It has people, at least in theory. Look closely. You'll see them."

And she was right. There they were, peering from the windows, looking with wide staring eyes at the two people who walked out in the open.

"Into the alley," whispered Zelda, clutching Wario's arm. "Quickly."

Wario's sidestep was a bit more graceful than before the training, but he still resembled nothing quite so much as a large crab as he scuttled into the side street. He barely breathed as the two bulky Moblins seemed to barge their way through the air. After they had vanished around a corner, Wario and Zelda carried on their journey, Wario still scarcely daring to breathe.

"So, do you know where the key is?" he gasped.

"I have some idea."

A slow and irregular trickle of passers-by passed by. Hylian men with heavy rucksacks on their backs; women with ragged shawls and empty eyes; horse skeletons dragging carts; the heavily built rocky Gorons, like bipedal brown toads with faces every bit as grumpy; and occasionally a few children, who were the only ones who dared to raise a smile. Invariably, they stared at Zelda and Wario as they passed, looking with awe at the one's serene grace and the other's plump and rosy cheeks. It occurred to Wario that the plants that were growing along the sides of every path they took looked better fed than anything else, with the exception of the guard patrols they took pains to avoid.

Only one activity disturbed their pattern of walk, hide, walk, hide. On their travels, the duo came across a trio of the porcine law enforcers knocking roughly on a house door. When they were met with no response, they looked somewhat annoyed and smashed the door down with their fists. From his alley vantage point, Wario could hear smashing of crockery, human screams and piggy grunts. When he turned to Zelda she was gone.

Daring to poke his head once more out into the main road, Wario could see a woman's footprints, about running distance apart, going up to the broken door of the house. As he emerged from the alley, the grunting became less leisurely and more panicked, and then squeals broke out. One of the Moblins was briefly visible running out of the doorway, before a sharp needle flew into its neck and caused it to slump, gently oozing green. And suddenly Zelda was at Wario's side again, pulling his sleeve in an urgent manner and quickly bypassing the groaning guard.

"Did you do that?" asked Wario.

"Do that? Me? Oh no. I wouldn't want to draw attention to our presence by neutralising a LOVE tax collection patrol who were about to beat an innocent family, including three children under twelve, to death for non-payment."

"Oh," said Wario. "So, did Sheik do that?"

Zelda did not reply.

The roads became steeper, and soon Wario felt that a nice hilly stroll had become almost mountainous. He was shocked to find that after three minutes' walk up the incline he had barely broken a sweat. The fact that he now had some level of fitness constantly surprised him. Nevertheless, by the time Zelda stopped to have a look around he was grunting like one of the Moblins.

"That's the place," said Zelda pointing.

"How d'you know?"

"I saw her arrive two days ago."

"The place" was festooned with old stone slabs sticking out of the ground at odd angles, and someone had thrown in some cattle skulls with peculiarly inclined horns for good measure. The place could not have said "graveyard" more clearly if it had had a neon sign saying "graveyard" above it; even the cyan and purple flowers could not remove the air of death and finality. The small creature in the middle, though, was doing her best.

She was grunting and groaning and making all sorts of sounds that marked her out very clearly as one of the living. She came up to Zelda's waist, and only got that far because of the gigantic stone headpiece that had enough crenellations to give Hyrule Castle a run for its money. Atop this was a large orange hand, which had its palm against the rock face that formed a wall of the graveyard and seemed to be pushing hard.

As Wario approached this dwarf, Zelda beside him, he noted the grey and black colouration of her skin, as well as the glowing green tattoo that ran down her arms, legs and sharp ears. She was nowhere near human – in fact, with her potbelly and ridiculously large head, she was not even attractive for whatever species she was; yet for some reason, Wario felt something stir inside him as he looked at her. He put it down to the aftermath of Farore's Wind.

They were barely ten feet from her when the wall gave way. Waves of purple energy radiated out from the hand, and a section of the rock sank down to reveal a dark opening. When the energy waves had ceased, the dwarf levitated into the air and punched upwards with her stubby arms and her orange hand.

"Yes!" she cackled, before catching sight of her audience. Then, "Who are you? You're not Greil M…"

She did not finish the sentence. Dumbstruck just for a moment, she then hovered up to Zelda's face and floated inches away from it, wearing an appraising expression. Seemingly satisfied, she smiled, said "Hah!" and floated away again, hands (well, two of them) on hips and looking faintly smug.

"Princess," she said, "what a pleasure it is to see you again, and at liberty. I wasn't expecting this honour."

"You were expecting Ike and his band?" answered Zelda.

The dwarf turned away and snorted. "Something like that. Been sending them messages encoded into birds' feathers, under the pseudonym 'M'. Told them I'd found an area protected by Ganondorf's magic near Kakariko and that they should come and take a look, seeing as at the time they were the only anti-LOVE force around. But now, of course, there's your little crew…"

She turned again, and seemed to see Wario for the first time. Giving a little smile, she hovered down and floated a foot away from him.

"Who's your new toyboy, princess?" she asked, looking slyly at Zelda. "Does Link know about him?"

Wario did not think he had ever seen Zelda look awkward before. There was that time in Eagleland, of course, when she had set that hideous hallucination on fire and with it the Ultimate Chimera, but that had been more horror than embarrassment. Yet now the princess of Hyrule was rendered speechless, her cheeks went red and she glared with undisguised fury at the hatted creature. Wario decided that it was time to pay his teacher back.

"Delighted to meet you, madam," he said, grasping a little black hand. "Wario's the name." And he planted a delicate kiss on it.

It worked. Zelda was shaken out of discomfiture into sheer wonder. She just stared, still speechless. The dwarf took less time to recover, and pulled her hand away with a giggle.

"Odd to see you travelling with an ex-LOVEr, princess," she said. "I didn't know you liked the bad boys. And what a moustache! Bet you could ping rocks off of that."

Wario smiled, a grin that after merciless applications of toothpaste and mouthwash rivalled Zelda's in whiteness, and twanged his moustache to prove the point.

"Wario," said Zelda, her composure finally restored, "this is Midna, the ruler of a nearby kingdom."

"Kinda sorta," said Midna with a shrug. "I mean, it's in the same place as Hyrule, but in a parallel world kinda thingy. Not important, anyway. I sensed that Hyrule was under attack, fooled about a bit with the space-time continuum, and, well…" She spread all three arms. "Here I am!"

There was something attractive about the dwarf, but Wario was damned if he could work out what it was. Broad hips, yes, but a devilish face and nothing in the way of mammaries; and yet still unmistakeable sex appeal. It was very strange.

"How did you know there was something special here?" asked Zelda.

"Please," replied Midna, giving her an "Are you thick?" look. "Cyan and purple flowers? Cyan and purple _anything_? Dead giveaway. Just checked the area for magic seals, found one, and now it's broken! And Ike and the Greils were meant to show up and find out what's past it, but they're not here…"

Wario gave a little bow. "Midna, Zelda and I have come here searching for what is (probably) in that cave. Permit us to take the Greils' place."

Midna's eyes widened and she smiled again. "Noble, isn't he? Last I heard, Wario was a fat smelly guy with about as much politeness as a Moblin with a porcupine down his pants. What's changed?"

Wario grimaced inwardly, but kept up the outer veneer of smoothness. "I had an excellent teacher."

Zelda's mouth flickered, forming a not quite smile that vanished almost immediately.

"What about it, Zel-da?" the dwarf said, elongating the "Zel" and spitting out the "da" with a grin. "Fancy letting Mustachios here explore this long damp tunnel with you?"

The innuendo bypassed Zelda completely. Not so Wario, who found Midna's appeal growing with every sentence she spoke.

"Come, Wario," said Zelda serenely, walking into the night. "Be on your guard. Who knows what traps Ganondorf might have hidden in there."

"Good luck in her tunnel, Wazza," called Midna as Wario followed. "Watch out for giant crabs!"

What a girl. Well, dwarf.

o o o

They marched on without speaking for a bit, dripping water the only noise. Wario's head was swimming with thoughts of the creature he had just met. Smart, funny, a dirty sense of humour – such a shame about her physical appearance. And yet he was still trying to picture her massive head in his own and deduce what it was that superseded her ugly body and face and made her so… so…

"So, Midna seems to like you," echoed Zelda's voice from slightly above his head.

Wario was very glad that the flaming torches were liberally spaced enough for his blush to go unnoticed.

"She's very, er… pleasant…" he stammered.

"Not the word I would use. Midna can frequently be spiteful, manipulative or just crass. And she's a liar."

"Really?"

"Yes. You don't get giant crabs in this bit of Hyrule."

Wario wondered how one went about explaining a pubic lice-related joke to the most morally upright person he knew. It took him half a minute to devise an answer – one didn't.

"But, she has a good heart," continued Zelda. "She has helped our kingdom in times of trouble before, and now, despite my decree banishing her from Hyrule…" There was a strained pause. "…she has returned, to help us again."

"What did you ban her for?" asked Wario.

"Indecent exposure in the streets."

It was odd, the way Zelda could make "indecent exposure in the streets" sound like "mass murder and paedophilia". As far as Wario could tell, Midna had been stark naked just now, and Zelda had not complained. Her skin looked almost reptilian, anyway; if Yoshi could prance about wearing only some boots and a saddle, Wario saw nothing wrong with Midna wearing just a hat.

"Here we are," said Zelda, her voice still a touch harsh.

It was a simple wooden door, between two flaming torches, with a metal plaque on it. But the devil is in the detail, and Wario got close enough to read the engraving on the plaque:

"Through here lies the darkness in your heart."

"What the heck does that mean?" said Wario, substituting "heck" for anything ruder as Sheik had taught him.

"I don't know," said Zelda. "I intend to find out."

She took hold of the brass doorknob in her slender digits and pulled. The door opened without resistance, and Zelda stepped into the darkness beyond. Wario quickly scuttled after, but not before losing sight of his companion in the room behind the door.

o o o

"Congratulations Mr. Fairy!"

When did he get outside? Also, when did he warp from the sandy village into a grassy field, completely abandoned but for himself, a couple of birds and the man who had just spoken?

He was a horrible sight: a man slightly shorter than Wario, and slightly tubbier than the Italian now was. His eyes were piggier than Wario's, inserted above a nose bigger and redder than Wario's and a smile more hideous than Wario's had ever been. The whole horrifying vision was topped off by his outfit, which seemed to be a one-piece green rubber suit that came over his head and bore two fake ears as pointed as Wario's own, and the mincing way in which the little man pranced over to "Mr. Fairy". Wario could well believe that he was looking at "the darkness in his heart."

"You are the 1000th person to walk through this door!" the man cooed. "Allow me to present you with your reward!"

"I highly doubt that I want any reward you can offer," replied Wario.

The man wagged his finger. "Don't be so sure, Mr. Fairy!"

It started with a gentle jingling sound. Wario turned to see a stream of coins cascading from the heavens close behind him. They reminded him of his old ringtone. Then there was the papery rustling sound, and it was a pile of notes. Then glassy ringing told him that gemstones were doing the same thing. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies, those purple ones he could never remember, they were all there, pouring down in a river of colour. And then CLUNKjingle, CLUNKjingle all around as treasure chests hit the earth like oversized wooden hailstones, each one opening on impact to reveal shining valuable innards.

It was fair to say that Wario had never seen so many shiny things in his life. Even in the treasure vaults of his castle before all the LOVE business, he had never seen so much glitter and value, and with a howl of delight he towards the nearest treasure chest and prepared to plunge his hands into it.

He did not complete the action. "The darkness in your heart"? Something rang hollow about all this. He turned his head towards the ugly man slowly.

"All this for me?" he asked. "Because I'm the 1000th person who's been through this door?"

"Ooh yes Mr. Fairy!"

"Despite the fact I saw the seal on this cave broken today?"

The hideous grin was replaced by an equally hideous expression of confusion. "Seal?"

The more he thought about it, the more it sounded to Wario like an Internet scam. "1000th person" indeed.

"It's fake treasure, isn't it?"

"Ooh no! Real as I am, Mr. Fairy! Realler!"

Wario cautiously clenched some coins in his hand. They felt real. He bit into one, and looked at the teeth marks. Real, solid, non-hallucinatory gold. He picked up a diamond, and dragged a point along his tooth. He could feel it carving a line, just as a real diamond would. It was a very good Internet scam.

"Take some, Mr. Fairy! Take it all! Go for a swim in it!"

Oh Hands yes. Wario remembered coming back from a particularly successful treasure hunt with more coins than he could fit in his Wario Bike panniers, emptying them out onto the floor and then swimming in them. It had been a wonderful feeling. The jingling sound, the feel of cold metal against his gloves… It was a guilty pleasure, and a wonderful one. He scooped up a handful of coins and let them run through his fingers like water. Would it not be great to relive that joy?

The Chain flashed through his mind with a crackling sound.

"No thanks," he said with difficulty. "I'll just take… this ring."

It was made of some black metal, bearing three bright green emeralds. Too big for Midna's diminutive fingers, but maybe it would fit around one of her wrists.

The man in green seemed distraught. "But Mr. Fairy! With all the marvellous things you see before you, why only take one ring?"

"It's a present," said Wario. "For a friend. I think she'll appreciate it."

"But nothing for yourself?" wailed the man. "Not even a small bracelet? Or some gold coins to help you along the way?"

Just a few coins? They did feel genuine, and there was no denying that they could buy something to help along the way – some heads of sweet garlic, maybe. But what about the good breath he had striven so hard to achieve?

"No," he said firmly. "The ring's enough. I need to go now."

And there was the door onwards, cut into a nearby hillside. How come he had only just noticed it? It had clearly been here the whole time. He picked his way through the piles of treasure towards it, ignoring the lamentations of the man in green.

"But I worked so hard to get this all for you! Oh, Mr. Fairy, you so ungrateful!"

"Keep it," said Wario, opening the door. "Buy yourself some proper clothes and plastic surgery."

And he went through.

o o o

"What happened to you?"

"I could ask you the same question," said Wario, emerging back into the cave. "You went through first, and then you were gone."

"I walked straight through," said Zelda. "I assumed you were right behind me until I got to here."

Wario squinted at her and pinged his moustache thoughtfully.

"What was in that room?" he asked.

"You saw it too, didn't you? Nothing. Just a bare grey cell of a room with two doors."

Wario pondered the implications of the sign on the door. "The darkness in your heart." Everyone knew Zelda was as pure as the dew on the lawn in the morn; did it not follow that she had no darkness in her heart?

"Ganondorf's testing us," said Zelda, as if reading Wario's thoughts. "Using our own minds against us."

Okay, thought Wario, but if I have to see another hideous hallucination like that one in Hyrule Field I will not be responsible for my stomach. The two of them peered at the plaque on the next door.

"Through here lies your heart's desire."

"Well, that sounds better, eh?" said Wario brightly. "Better than 'the darkness in your heart', anyway."

Zelda did not respond.

o o o

"Hey, Wario!"

It was another field, as green and fresh and outdoors and indistinguishable as the last one. The sun was shining, the birds were singing their little hearts out and all the rest of the League of Legends were standing around, looking happy to see him.

This was bizarre.

"You were quick!" said Sonic, rushing up to the Italian and stopping just short of a collision. "I was really surprised at how quickly everyone finished, but you in particular!"

"Gee thanks."

"Aw, sorry!" said Sonic, looking genuinely pained. "I didn't mean it like that. Anyway, it's great to have you back, buddy!"

Curiouser and curiouser.

"You've changed, man!" said the good Captain, standing beside his car. "You look… well…"

"Handsome," finished Peach, sashaying over.

Could it be? As he stared from face to face to slit in a mask, each one eager and enthusiastic to see him, Wario tried to remember hard something that was escaping his mind like water vapour emerging from a kettle. He had to hold onto the fact that – what was it? Ah yes – it wasn't real. It was all a fabrication, a manipulation of his senses. It wasn't…

"You really are good looking now," said Peach, now inches from his face. "What happened?"

Then again, if it was a hallucination, it was awfully realistic. He could smell the peach blossom woven into her hair. Wario blushed heartily.

"Z-z-zelda helped me with a few things," he admitted tremulously.

"Wow, really?" said Peach, turning to her fellow princess. "You've done a good job, Zelda. He's gorgeous."

Zelda beamed and clasped her hands, but said nothing.

"Now hold on a minute," said Wario, trying to pull his mind together. "Zelda's not back with the rest of you. She's facing up to… to something in the other room!"

And you two are never nice to each other, he thought to himself.

"I got back just now," said Zelda, looking bemused. "What's the problem?"

"Hey Wario," said Peach, holding out a mirror, "want to see what you look like now?"

Wario grabbed the mirror eagerly. All the windows in that village had been broken a long time ago, and Lake Hylia's surface had been too disturbed by the rainclouds that haunted it and its piscine population to reveal his new image; the result was that he only had Zelda's (and Peach's) word that he looked any different. He turned the mirror towards his face.

"Well?" asked Zelda. "What do you think?"

The hair had been brushed, and was now tidy and clean. The eyebrows were trimmed, and now looked roguish rather than downright evil. The cheeks had a healthy glow. The moustache was slick and springy. The smile was clean as a whistle, and almost dazzled him. The jaw, bereft of some of its excess flab, was stronger and better defined. The nose… Well, okay, the nose was relatively unchanged, but at least he did not pick it so much any more.

Zelda waited, a little smile on her face, for her student's response. Wario took in a healthy gulp of air.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO WAAAAARIO?"

o o o

When Zelda emerged from the door, perspiring slightly, she found Wario huddled in a corner, looking at his hands as if he had never seen them before.

"YOU!" he shouted when she entered. "What have you done to my beautiful face? My beautiful beautiful face?"

Zelda gave him a baffled look. "But you wanted to be more attractive to women."

"Well, yes, but I didn't think you'd make me unrecognisable!"

Zelda searched for a polite way to tell her erstwhile pupil that this was the only way she could have made his visage at any rate presentable, and finding none kept her mouth shut.

Wario passed a troubled hand across his brow. "Anyway, what kept you? It's at least five minutes after I left the door."

"I had some… trouble with my version of the room," said Zelda, unable to meet Wario's eyes.

"Oh yeah?"

"What was your heart's desire, Wario?" asked Zelda quickly, looking at the next door.

"Oh, boring friendship bullsh…tuff," Wario answered, quickly preventing the coarser aspects of the general language of Nintendo from reaching Zelda's delicate pointed ears. "Shall we go on?"

"Yes," said Zelda like a bullet. "This should be the last door. Hyrule likes doing things in threes, Ganondorf included."

The third and possibly final door bore the following plaque:

"Through here lies your greatest terror."

"Well, at least it's clear what that means," said Wario, thinking hard as to what his greatest terror was. "All set, Zelda?"

A quick glance told him that Zelda was far from being all set. Her eyes were glazed over, her mouth was slightly open and her hands were shaking.

"Oh," said Wario. "Your greatest terror's pretty bad, huh?"

"I'll be fine," said Zelda in a monotone. "You go first. I'll follow."

"You sure, Zelda? 'Cause if you're not, we can try and go in together. Enter holding hands or something. Maybe we'll get into the same room."

"More likely one of us will end up missing a hand. You go on. I'll be fine."

Wario took a last look at the stunned princess and, holding his breath, passed through the doorway.


	12. 5 Greed ii

No beautiful field this time. In fact, there were no signs of life at all. He stood amongst bricks and cement, toppled to the floor, the constructions they might once have been part of blown to smithereens. A cold breeze blew and made him clutch his raggedy tunic about him, but apart from the sound of the wind everything was silent. No birdsong, no car noises, no crickets chirping. No life at all.

He was alone in the world. But he had been prepared for this.

"It's a fake," he shouted out towards the orange sun, low on the horizon. "You're not real. You're just a hallucination, created because I'm afraid of being lonely. Very convincing, yes, but not real."

"Denial will do you no good."

Wario spun on his heel, but it was an unnecessary movement. He knew the cultured gentle voice. It was something else he had considered as a contender for his greatest fear, but it had been edged out in the home stretch by loneliness. Of course, the two combined were more frightening than either on its own.

"I thought I was the only one left," said Ganondorf, smiling. "How did you survive the holocaust, Wario?"

He was a foot or two taller than Wario remembered him being. That had to be part of the hallucination, designed to terrify. Wario coughed and prepared to shout. It was harder to deny Ganondorf's existence to his face than that of an apocalyptic landscape.

"You're a fake!" he squeaked.

Ganondorf laughed. "Oh am I? And I suppose the magic-based destruction of the entire planet of Nintendo is a fake as well, is it?"

"Yes!" said Wario, still not able to get his voice lower than an octave above middle C. "It's all just a trick you – well, not you, the real non-hallucinified version of you – are playing on my brain."

"Oh really?" said fake Ganondorf with a smirk. "Well, I must say, I am loving being this hallucination. I'll tell you, the destruction of Princess Zelda was especially satisfying. Big beam of purple energy right through the stomach. The look on her face!" He laughed unpleasantly.

There's got to be something wrong here, thought Wario. This is an illusion. I just have to find the error.

"But you wouldn't have nuked the entire world!" he said, his voice approaching a more reasonable pitch. "You're Ganondorf. You spent your whole life living in the desert, wishing you could live in central Hyrule where it was green and the wind was fresh. You wouldn't destroy all that."

Ganondorf frowned. "It's true, I do miss the verdure of pre-apocalypse Nintendo," he admitted. "But it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. And I still have the breeze!"

A cold gust blew through to highlight his point.

"Oh for the Hands' sake!" yelled Wario. "This is a hallucination. I need to get through here and find the key. There's a door somewhere. I know there is. I just need to find it!"

"Time's a-wastin', Wario," said Ganondorf. "True, I don't need to hurry for anything any more, but I'm slightly eager to devise a humorous way of dealing with you, and all this 'hallucination' rot is getting on my nerves."

"Wait wait WAIT!"

He had it. He thought.

"This is stupid," said Wario. "You're not even my greatest fear."

Ganondorf raised a red eyebrow. "Wario, I'm capable of annihilating you from where I stand by lifting my pinkie, so I'm quite curious to know what you could fear more than me."

"I got it," said Wario, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and wearing what was not yet a smile but might turn into one if things went well. "My biggest fear – and it's already happened several times before – is being looked down on, trampled on, treated like shit."

"I can easily do that," said Ganondorf.

"Not you! The people I care about. The people who actually matter to me."

Ganondorf opened his mouth and let the lower jaw hang. The pre-smile matured into a fully-grown satisfied grin.

"Your system is crap, Big G!" Wario said. "If I think something's my greatest fear, it assumes it is. It doesn't even check! And fuck you to you and the whole of this acopalypse! Haha!"

"Big G" continued to stare at Wario briefly, before the entirety of his body disappeared in a whirl of colour and sound. In an instant, he was replaced by Princess Peach, her angelic face a picture of disgust. She looked down at Wario as if he was an expendable insect. Zelda stepped out from behind her, her face equally contemptuous and her mouth open to deal some serious damage to Wario's ego.

"Too late!" said Wario, opening the door.

o o o

When Wario stepped through the door into the little room beyond, he was absolutely positive that his greatest fear was being treated like excrement by the people he cared about. Fifteen minutes of worried pacing later, his stomach starting to forget its gas-withholding training as he became more nervous, and Wario was 100% sure that his greatest fear was that something had happened to Zelda.

He was not quite sure how realistic Ganondorf's mind games were. The ring was still there, solid and sparkly in his trouser pocket, but could they hurt you? Could they kill you? More to the point, could they kill Zelda? The next door had nothing on it, and Zelda had said that the SubSpace Key would be just beyond, but could he go on without Zelda? No. No he could not.

But what could he do? Zelda was trapped in a world of her own fears and mental anguishes. He could not just go in there and drag her out. No, there was no way he could use some blatant flaw in the system to go into her fear room and save her from whatever was in there.

None whatsoever.

o o o

Back through the apocalyptic world he ran; only now it was no longer an apocalyptic world but a multiplex cinema, with screens as far as the eye could see showing off 101 imaginative ways in which Zelda could have died. He did not hesitate, however. He was a man on a mission, and not even the bloody skeleton that he nearly tripped over could deter him. The door was in plain view, and Wario rushed through it and back into the small room beyond.

His plan was this: the thing he now wanted most of all was to find Zelda, so if he went back into his desire room he should end up in Zelda's fear room, ready to stop whatever was preventing her from proceeding. There was a fair chance it would not work. He might end up in a fake version of Zelda's fear room, or in Hyrule Field with a fake Zelda. Then again, he thought to himself as he opened the door into room "Heart's Desire", he might not.

"Please Goddesses no!"

Wario stopped in his tracks. He was astonished. There were numerous reasons for this. The first was that it was unmistakably Zelda's voice, and she was blaspheming. Zelda never blasphemed.

The second was the sight of Link, Hero of Time, out and about. From the long blonde hair to the green tunic and hat to the tight tights, he was unmistakable. Had his eyes been bright blue and sparkling, this might have been a reasonable explanation, but they were no more blue than usual.

The third was Ganondorf, Prince of Darkness, his body covered in a swirling black cape. Seeing his hideous green face and receding red hair twice in one day was enough to do bad things to any man's constitution.

And the fourth was Zelda, dressed up in Sheik costume – only not quite, because someone had torn the blue outfit asunder down the middle and exposed a few of the things Wario had hoped to see, but not like this. The culprit was unlikely to have been Link, not because he was showing any kindness towards the woman he usually tried to protect but because he was holding her from behind, restraining her arms. It was more likely to be Ganondorf, who was leaning over her with sword in hand.

It took Wario a while to figure out the situation. Fortunately it seemed to take Ganondorf and Link the same amount of time.

"Wario?" said Ganondorf, his face contorted in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

He received his answer in fist form. In his training, Wario had learnt a few lessons about a chivalry – namely, that one did not go around shredding women's clothing, and one hit those people who did in the face. Had he thought for a moment about the sword Ganondorf held he might have stayed his punch, but he acted out of anger and without foresight. Luckily the punch knocked the green man out stone cold. Wario tried not to look at the crotch area, but he could not help catching a glimpse of the green man's phallus, so covered with ink it might have been a graffiti-ed column outside a Hylian temple. At last, Wario was able to put a name to the large green hallucination that had shocked Zelda so in Eagleland.

Turning his eyes quickly away from the repulsive man and his repulsive object, Wario saw Link stepping over Zelda's body grim-faced and drawing his sword from behind his back. Now anger gave way to rational thought and fear: the sword was massive and Link was pointing it directly at Wario's mouth, and that was not even an innuendo.

"Now, Zelda!" shouted Wario.

Link glanced over his shoulder to see Zelda lying in a pathetic heap on the floor, not trying to do anything except discern some glimmer of sympathy in his eyes and cover herself ineffectually with her hands. Then he saw stars, and as he toppled to the floor he saw black.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HIM?"

I for one forgive Wario for being confused. He had just saved Zelda from being raped by the hallucinatory Prince of Darkness and aide, and now Zelda was staring at him with still red eyes that resembled nothing so much as cold unbridled fury. Furthermore, the yell that had erupted from her still open mouth was deafening in volume, and seemed to have come from someone with a much larger lung capacity.

"He's not really Link!" Wario said, backing away slightly. "He's just an illusion!"

Zelda stared at him incomprehensibly for a moment, before recollection hit her and she looked at the floor, nodding mutely. Then she caught sight of her own body, squeaked and, in a flash of light, was back in a dirty but intact dress. Her eyes were still red, but that was just from crying.

"Some fear, huh," said Wario, looking at the downed Hylians.

"How did you find me?" asked Zelda softly, not looking up.

"Ah, just abused a glitch in the system. I'm a leet hackzor."

There was a moment of silence. Then Zelda looked up and smiled weakly.

"Thank you, Wario," she said. "Sorry I shouted at you like that. I just…"

"Fugedaboudit. We just gotta get out of here before they wake up. Let's go."

He extended his arm and pulled Zelda's outstretched hand upwards. The princess looked unsteady on her legs, but managed to stay standing.

"You know," she said, "for some reason I don't want to leave. Can't we stay here for a bit?"

Wario shook his head. "That's because you're in my desire room. You're meant to keep me trapped here. Come on, let's go."

"Your desire room?" said Zelda, brow furrowed. "But this is my fear room. I'm puzzled."

"Okay," said Wario, sighing. "I'll explain it in simple terms."

Zelda cocked a pointed ear.

"LET'S GO."

o o o

It was a short jaunt back through his own fear room. The screens and skeletons had gone, replaced once more by a scorn-pouring Peach and Zelda, now with Midna joining in on the insults; but Wario was not fooled. Having seen Zelda nearly in tears but a minute ago, this Zelda that looked down her sharp nose at him seemed unreal, as indeed she was. He went back through the door.

When he returned to the small room beyond, there was a heap of rags in the corner, shaking gently. Closer inspection revealed that it was Zelda. For the first time, Wario noticed how dirty she was, how much thinner the journeying and running and fighting had made her. He stood aghast, looking at the girl as her crumpled form heaved with every barely repressed sob.

"Teacher?" he said slowly. "I don't think we covered how to comfort a crying woman in conversational training one-oh-one."

For a moment, the sobs stopped. Zelda turned her face towards Wario, the grime punctuated by tear trails. She even managed another faltering smile.

"If you know her well, you put an arm around her and a hand on her knee," she whispered. "Then you ask if anything's wrong, even though it's obvious it is, and whether she wants to talk about it. Usually she'll say 'no'."

The sobs came back, and she hid her face in her hands. Wario sat down on the hard earth and stretched a tentative arm around the princess' back, placing his free hand lightly on her knee.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked. "And, er, d'you wanna talk about it?"

Zelda coughed dryly and swallowed a sob, in an attempt to regain some composure.

"Please," she said.

Wario had a distinct feeling that this situation was not going as per his instructions.

"Hang about…" he began.

"Yes, I know, it's a variation from procedure. Will you please listen to me?

"So, as you know, Ganondorf took over Hyrule a bit more than a year ago. I just showed up at breakfast one morning and there he was, sitting in my chair, feet on the table and helping himself to some roast Cucco, while dead men lay all around. I drew my sword, of course, and prepared to fight, but Ganondorf snapped his fingers and two of his cronies brought in Link, bound by three rings of purple magic, and pushed him to the floor.

"I'm sure you know Link, Wario. When… Sorry, forgive my tears. When he's _not_ one of Ganondorf's hallucinations, he's very kind and considerate, but very brave too. He's a little naïve at times, almost childlike: he's a gentle giant. But he believes in the Goddesses as firmly as I do, and… um… should one by influenced by the shallow appeal of the physical form, then… Well you've just seen him, you tell me. He's not perfect, mind you – he was brought up on a farm, and brings all the roughness of his humble beginnings to the royal court. And he doesn't speak much. He's the strong silent type…

"…I love him, Wario. I love him fully and unconditionally. I confess that, may the Goddesses forgive me, I love him enough to have… to have sinned with him, although we are not married. Does that shock you? …You remain speechless. Yes, I know it is a great crime, but that is how much I love the man. Now I suppose you understand why I shouted at you back in the fear room. So when Ganondorf demanded that I surrender or he would die I dropped my sword as if it were burning with the flames of Din herself!

"Thus began my life in captivity. The first week followed a pattern to an extent. I was woken up at eight by a guard projecting my simple breakfast under a hatch in my door; I would call through the hatch asking how Link was, but never received a reply. Ganondorf had thoughtfully placed one of your tell-e-vision things in my room, powered by a small solar device, and removed the power switch. It was turned on and off by a spell, so every morning I would have to watch or listen to either the panicked news reports of takeovers of other countries or the smug tones of the new LOVE-run broadcasting channels. That, and the few books left in my room, were my entertainment. I was served lunch and dinner in the same way, posing the same question and getting the same response, and after ten the magic torches would extinguish and the Tee Vee would switch off, allowing me to lie awake worrying until morning.

"It was a hard life, but I could bear it. I'd been captured by Ganondorf many times in the past. The time before, he used to take me out, attach me to what he called a "magic amplifier" and drain the magic out of my body. It was excruciatingly painful, and he did it every day. So compared to that, this was almost relaxing. At least at first...

"Then on the eighth day, when my breakfast was due to arrive… I'm fine, just give me a minute… No, honestly, I'm okay. Anyway, I received a knock at the door, and who should be there but Ganondorf. I'm fine, just… something in my eye. So he came in, all smiles and charm, and put my breakfast down on the table. And he just stood there while I ate it, smiling.

"'I hear you've been asking about Link,' he said after I finished. 'Would you…' That's my pause, not his, he didn't pause. He said… Forgive me, it's hard for me to… He said, 'Would you like to see him?'

"More than anything in the world, but there was something in his manner that made me suspicious; so I asked him what he'd done to Link.

"'Nothing!' he replied, all smiles. 'Link's fine. A bit upset from being in captivity, but fine.'

"So I let him take me down to the d-d-dungeons. And there's my beloved Link, stuck in a grimy cell, staring at the wall. I tried to run over to him, but Ganondorf… H-he… He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, and p-p-pushed me to the floor in front of Link's cell. Then he makes me face Link, who's looking at me, and he s-s-s-says-s-s-s…

"…'H-here's your princess, L-link!' And h-h-he… H-h-h-he… Right there, on the stone, with Link looking!... Oh Wario, you have no idea of the shame… In front of Link… Rather the amplifier every day, every _hour_, than this... Oh dear…

"All he could do was watch and listen. Eventually he turned away, and stuffed his fingers in his ears, but I knew he could still hear everything – my screams, and the disgusting grunting noises. I tried to keep quiet, but it just hurt too much. It must have torn him apart inside, as it did me.

"…I didn't see Link again for a long time after that. But I saw that... that _monster_ far too often; sometimes twice a day, he'd come up to my room, and… Oh, Wario, you have no idea, some of the things he made me do… It hurt so much, both spiritually and physically. Sometimes he made me bleed… No, not that sort of blood! I'm twenty-seven, Wario, I think I know what… that process looks like, and it wasn't that!... That's sweet of you to say, but the moon affects me just like any other woman. Except when it didn't…

"It was horrible. I mean, more horrible than usual. They just stopped happening, and I knew that I was carrying inside me a small Ganondorf. Even now it makes me shudder. The only saving grace was that Ganondorf seemed equally horrified. He blasted me with some dark lightning, and it just slipped out, half formed and hideous. After that, he got me to cast Nayru's Love on him beforehand, or he… just used other orifices.

"It was an ordeal, but as long as I thought my dear Link was safe I could bear it. Until one day… One terrible day… Oh goodness me… One day the door opened in the morning, and who should be there but Link himself? But when I ran to him, he… he dodged out of the way! I was lying on the floor, looking up at him, and he b-b-bent d-d-down and s-s-s-said… He said he didn't love me! He said he c-c-couldn't after seeing Ganondorf do that to me! He c-c-called m-me a… a… h-h-he c-c-called me a p-p-p-p…"

She dissolved into heaving sobs and salty tears before the final word could burst from her. Wario stroked her hair and felt his shoulder getting damp.

"Were this new Link's eyes blue and sparkling?" he asked.

"H-h-he h-h-has blue eyes, y-yes," Zelda replied, "and he d-d-didn't look that unhappy."

"No, I mean, were they really light blue and shiny? You know, like you said that clone of Marth had? And the Ness clone after that?"

"I g-guess his eyes were quite bright." You could almost see the realisation hitting her like a club to the back of the head. "Oh…"

"C'mon Zelda," said Wario, rising and holding out a hand. "If Link's as good a guy as you say he is, he's not going to chuck you out in the cold just 'cause Ganondorf raped you."

Zelda took it and wiped her face. "I managed to get all the way through that without using the 'r' word. Then you go and spoil it."

o o o

"Congratulations. You made it past all the horrors of your minds. Now you will die here."

Didn't mince his words, did he? Wario thought, looking at the recognisable back. If the muscular physique and blonde rock star hair had not given him away, the green clothes and hat, plus the fact that he managed to look straight in tights, said "Hero of Time" all over. The fact that the man's large blade and shield were not slung over his back only meant they were held in his leather gloves.

He turned slowly to face them, his blue eyes sparkling in the half-light from the flaming torches. His nose and ears were as pointed as Zelda's, and his small smug grin no less so.

"Ah, Zelda," he cooed softly. "How nice to see you again. It's been so long since..."

A multicoloured comet blazed past Wario and clashed against Link's sword. There was an ear-splitting din of metal on metal, and the form of an enraged Zelda was visible, yelling in old Hylian and slashing at Link repeatedly with a flaming red blade.

"You wretched, worthless piece of dung!" she screeched. "For half a year you had me believing that my beloved had forsaken me! For half a year I cried myself to sleep each night because of your tricks and deceit!"

"Are you so sure I deceived you?" Link said from beneath the storm of metal.

Zelda howled and redoubled her assault. Wario took a minute to wonder where the sword had come from. Then he rushed towards Link, reasoning that the offence against chivalry he was committing by attacking Link two-on-one was mitigated by the fact that Link had attacked a lady, an unforgivable crime. (He swept under the rug the fact that actually the lady had attacked him.)

A hard object thudded into the side of his head. With a stunned cry, he rolled over onto the floor.

Looking up, he focused with horror on the three men who stared at him with shining cyan eyes. The one in red was juggling an unlit bomb in one hand, flourishing his sword in the other; the one in navy was peering at him down the sights of a bow; and the one in lilac caught the boomerang that had toppled him deftly in one hand. Other than that, they all looked identical to each other and Zelda's combatant.

"How much cloning work has Ganondorf been up to?" thought Wario.

The red Link lit his bomb.

What followed was not so much a fight as an extended and rather farcical chase scene around the cave. Dodging around the clashing steel that marked Zelda's fight with Green Link, Wario put his newfound speed and stamina to the test dodging the three other colours. He discovered quickly that his improvements had not been sufficient to enable him to run faster than an arrow; he was therefore intensely grateful that the shafts came slowly and irregularly, giving him time to dodge-tumble out of the way of the boomerang which whistled through the gaps in the arrows. All the while he was forced to hop, skip and jump over bombs that would keep getting right under his feet and toasting his bottom with explosions. And should the slow-moving Links ever come close to cornering him, he would glimpse the cold steel of their blades reflecting the torchlight.

Five days of exercise had not sufficed to give him stamina enough to conduct an extended game of tag, all the while having to dodge projectile after projectile and with those swords ever looming. He felt his boots become leaden and his back starting to ooze sweat. The fat seemed to hang heavy off his arms and legs. Panting, he drew to a stop.

He stood for a moment and watched Link and Zelda exchange blows in the background, while closer by the blue eyes of the coloured Links hardened in triumph. They walked slowly towards him, savouring the moment. Cocky shits. The world seemed to swim in front of his eyes, and his stomach was churning.

All of a sudden, he recalled how he had not farted in four days.

It was one of the first things the brutality of The Chain had taught him: every time his bowels voided gas in a loud or smelly manner, he could expect to be lashed across the face. This had resulted in the fat man quickly learning how to hold in his flatulence, although he realised while doing this that eventually, at some point, it would have to come out.

Now, after all this running and a few projectiles to the stomach, he could feel a large amount of gas moving around inside him: angry gas, gas with one objective and one objective only, to escape Wario's colon via the most obvious exit. While all this was going on inside him, he saw the Links draw their swords above him.

No more waiting. It was going to come out, all of it. He could no longer hold it in. If he did, it might come out through his ears or something. It had to go, and it had to go now. Apologising to Zelda in his head, he turned his back on the blades, bent over and put his fingers in his ears.

THRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP.

The noise was overpowering; the smell was overwhelming; the recoil sent Wario skidding halfway across the cavern; but this was nothing compared to the force that the Links. First came the sound, a deafening foghorn blast; then it hit, a blow with many times the force of Wario's fist and infinitely worse smelling that thundered into their chests like a battering ram, lifting them off their feet and sent them flying into the rock wall, upon which there were three sickening cracks, a small avalanche and then a cloud of purple mist slowly rising.

Wario surveyed the aftermath with grim satisfaction. The sight was pleasing, even if the smell was not. He sniffed the air; in the enclosed space, the gases would take a while to diffuse. Then he instinctively covered his face with his hands. When the hard metal did not come, he dared to peek out.

The prim, proper, flatulence-allergic Zelda had not even noticed. She was still engaged in duelling with the green Link clone. Gone was the aggression of her initial assault, though: now she seemed to almost dance about him. Granted, his sword swipes still pinged off a navy Nayru's Love shield, or missed altogether after a Farore's Wind whisked her away, but the princess seemed to be reluctant to capitalise on the opportunities she created. In fact, craning in a pointed ear Wario could hear snippets of conversation passing between the fighters.

"…lying to me," he heard Zelda say. "You've tricked me before. Why should I trust you now?"

"Zelda, Link's a child inside," came the response, along with a swipe. "He's nothing more than a small naïve boy at heart."

"What?"

"He just had to grow up too fast in order to save the world. Do you honestly think he'll be able to just forget that he saw you screwed into submission before his eyes?"

"Stop tormenting me!" Zelda set her blade alight before making the slash, but her heart was not in it and the strike was easily parried.

"Face it, Zelda," said Link softly, "Link can't forgive you. It's not that he doesn't want to – it's that he can't. Even though he knows it's not your fault, that image of you with Ganondorf's penis inside you will eat away at him. That's something you can't change."

His sparkling blue eyes locked with those of the princess, welling with tears, beyond the two swords. Then Zelda's blade fell from the deadlock and dangled limply by her side.

"I know I'm not Link," said his clone, "but I may be the closest thing to him that will hug you again. Do you still want to kill me?"

Zelda did not answer, choosing instead to shut her eyes to try and keep in the drops. She stayed like this as Link put his strong arms around her, still grasping his sword. Wario stood on, his mouth dropped open in amazement. How could she be so blind as to fall for this?

"He's a LOVE clone, Zelda!" he shouted. "He only wants to kill you!"

No response from Zelda. Link barely gave him a shimmering glance from over the princess' shuddering shoulder.

"I'm all that's left for you now," he said. "Embrace me."

Her slim arms slowly wound themselves around his body and grasped it tightly.

"He's still holding the sword!" yelled Wario.

One of Link's arms detached itself from Zelda. It was the arm holding the sword.

"Zelda, listen to me! What would Link say if he could see you like this?"

There was a sudden burst of flame. Link staggered back, trying to pat out his tunic. When the crimson blaze subsided, Zelda was standing there, her face contorted in anger and flames dancing in her eyes.

"You wretch!" she cried. "Trying to make me betray my beloved Link. You will never be anywhere near the man he is!"

That worked, thought Wario.

"Now, Zelda…" the burning clone protested.

"DON'T YOU 'NOW ZELDA' ME!"

There was a hand gesture, a yell of "DIN'S FYRE!" and then a jet of flame had engulfed Link's face. When the burning subsided, not only was the victim lacking a face – he had no head at all. Wario had a brief glance of the clone _sans tête _before the clone vanished in purple mist.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," said Wario.

Zelda was too busy staring at the spot where Link had been to reply.

As the mist slowly separated, it revealed a small figure. It was a young boy, no older than twelve, with a large round head and even bigger eyes, moist and frightened that stared anxiously at the still fuming princess. Aside from these differences, he looked an awful lot like the older Link. He was dressed in green, with white tights and brown boots; he had a little sword and shield on his back; he even had blonde floppy hair drooping over sparkling blue eyes. Zelda marched over, grabbed the boy by his tunic and shook him roughly.

"Where's the SubSpace Key?" she yelled in his face. "Where is it?"

The boy said nothing. He took the shaking with no ill effects apart from a continual flow of silent tears. Eventually Zelda put him down, her own eyes growing and her mouth open.

"'A child inside'" she murmured. "No..."

"I don't get it," said Wario, scratching his head.

"Ganondorf has hidden the SubSpace Key inside the boy." Zelda turned her face to the sky/cavern roof and yelled: "That's just like him, isn't it? Forcing us to rip apart an innocent child! Curse you, Ganondorf!"

"He's just another clone," pointed out Wario. "He probably doesn't even have feelings..."

"All right – you do it."

The Linkchild's large blue gaze turned on Wario, his lip trembling slightly. Wario felt his hands quiver. After all the lives he had destroyed during his time in the LOVE, surely ripping apart a single child clone, who was after all not cloned from any real human but developed from some experiment with Link's subconscious, would be easy? By try as he might, he could not find the strength to put his fist through those two large blue orbs, desperately hoping for another chance and so large, it seemed to Wario, that they were bulging out of the head they were in…

It was an odd sound, somewhere between a muffled explosion and a sci-fi _whoomph_, that accompanied the explosion of Chibi-Link. The eyes did indeed pop out first, shortly followed by the rest of the vital organs, which seem to react on contact with the air and become purple gas. All that remained of the clone of Link's consciousness was a single golden key, which pinged violently off the rock wall and then lay still, glowing slightly.

"You're welcome."

Wario and Zelda span around.

"Midna?" asked Wario. "How did you get in here?"

"Same way as you did," said the dwarf with a cocky half-smile. "I already knew what each of the chambers would contain, so…"

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM!"

This shout seemed to take everything out of Zelda, who then slumped onto the floor and looked into the darkness with glassy eyes.

"It was just a clone…" began Wario.

"Oh, don't mind her," said Midna, floating over to the prone form. "Poor woman, driven half mad by love. Can you blame her for going a bit overboard at the destruction of her champion before her eyes?"

Wario did not know. He had never had a champion.

"Come on," said Midna, her hat's orange hand picking Zelda up like a rag doll. "Let's get you out of here."

She extended an amphibious little paw, which Wario took. Then he felt an odd lightness throughout his body, and looking at Zelda and Midna noticed that they were separating into black pixels.

"Phew!" said the dispersing Midna. "What's that stink?"

Wario was very glad that he whooshed upwards the next second.

o o o

"…like Farore's Wind. I can only teleport to places I've already seen."

"Aha."

Zelda woke to the sound of voices. There were a lot of Links still buzzing around in her head – Hallucination Link who had restrained her while Ganondorf cut her blue costume down the middle, Clone Link who had almost stabbed her in the back (again), Clone Link's Inner Self who had exploded into purple and gold, and most of all the real Link, probably holed up in that Dark Prison thing being manipulated to produce clones of him, and possibly unable to forgive her for something she had not done. Clone Link's words continued to ring in her brain, and the more she tried to expel them the louder they reverberated. "Link can't forgive you, Link can't forgive you, Link can't Hey Moustache Face, your teacher's awake!"

Wait. That wasn't her brain.

She opened her eyes to what she thought was Pit, but then realised that Midna's hat covered her left eye. The other, bright and yellow, glinted at her above a small smile.

"Hey sleepy," said the smile. "How you doing?"

Zelda sat up slowly. She was still feeling emotionally drained, but there was no physical pain. Looking around told her that the sun was just rising, and that she was in a ramshackle shack with sand on the floor.

"Not bad," she said, managing to smile back.

"I teleported you to this old house in Kakariko and poured some blue healing potion down your throat," said Midna. "You're all healed up. Oh, and you have some visitors."

Rotating her head slowly, Zelda's eyes passed the smiling Wario and alighted upon a brawny man with blue hair. He had a girl clinging onto his arm with hair of green.

"Princess Zelda," said Ike, bowing slightly. "Good to see you're recovered."

"Nice to see you too, Ike," replied Zelda. "And you, Lyn. When did you get here?"

"Just after you went into the cave. Midna told us where you'd gone before she went in after you. I must confess," said Ike, looking over his shoulder at the dwarf, "I didn't expect our 'M' to look like… like this…"

Midna sniffed haughtily.

"Anyway, Princess, I regret to tell you that Archanea has fallen."

"I'm sorry," said Zelda, bowing her head.

"It was after we had delivered you to the ship. We returned to camp and found but a handful of survivors. They said that a vanguard consisting of Ganondorf's army and a man in green with a big sword…"

Zelda and Wario exchanged nervous glances. _Another_ Link? Just how far advanced was Project Z?

"…smashed through our forces. With us missing, as well as fighters such as Lucas and Diddy, and still weakened from the last attack, we had no chance."

Lyn coughed gently.

"And Roy," added Ike. "It's just like what happened to my best friend Soren. Senselessly slaughtered by the LOVE…"

"Darling, not now," said Lyn. "So we returned to the mainland, the few of us who were left, to assist in any way possible. We may have been too late for this, but if in the future we can help at all…"

"You are very kind," said Zelda. "If ever we should require aid, we shall find a way of calling you, or ask Midna to do the same."

The two bowed and withdrew, looking at Wario with an odd expression as they left. Wario thought he saw a different light in Lyn's eyes. He realised suddenly that they did not recognise his new form, and smiled to himself. No more "enough food stored beneath your skin" jibes now, eh?

"We must be going," said Zelda, sitting up slowly, all her former serenity returned. "Wario, we need to return to Hyrule Field by midday."

Wario nodded, with something of a sad expression on his face. Midna looked at him with a similar expression. As she did so, Zelda noticed for the first time that the orange hand on Midna's hat had something dark and green around its fourth finger.

"Zelda," said Midna slowly, "do you mind if I teleport Wario to Hyrule Field later? I have some stuff to discuss with him."

"I suppose not," said Zelda, a bit confused. "No later than twelve, though. Wario, a word in your ear, please."

Wario, a look of wonder on his face, craned in to listen, while Midna respectfully turned her back.

"What has happened?" Zelda whispered.

"I'm… not quite sure," said Wario. "You going to be okay returning to Hyrule on your own?"

"Oh yes," said Zelda with a little smile. "I've born this burden for long enough already and I feel much better having told it to someone. I'll be fine. Will you?"

"I… I think so…"

"Good." Zelda stood up. "Midna, take care of my pupil. He represents a lot of hard work."

Midna grinned toothily. "Oh I will. Don't you worry, Princess. Wazza'll be fine in my hands." The orange one waved.

Zelda nodded. "And thank you, for helping us earlier. When I return to power, I shall rescind your banishment."

"Please," said Midna. "Why would I want to live in your stupid kingdom? I've got one of my own."

Zelda shook one of the smaller hands, bestowed a smile upon Wario and vanished in a green flash. Wario and Midna were alone in the candlelit room, and Wario was sweating a bit despite himself.

"So," he asked with a gulp, "what was in each of your rooms?"

"That would be telling," said Midna, wagging a finger. "Anyway, I didn't keep you behind to talk about that. I wanted to thank you for your wonderful gift."

She took the ring off and fiddled with it for a while, in paws too small to hold it. Then there was a flash of blinding light, and Wario had to cover his eyes. He could hear Midna's voice slowly becoming more melodious on the other side of his hands.

"I prefer to travel as a dwarf-frog-thing," it said. "Draws less attention to myself. But, well, there are times when I want somebody to see me for who I really am – a royal princess, every bit as regal and beautiful as Zelda."

The light was fading, and Wario could just about open his eyes.

"Only I have a sense of humour."

Midna was gone. The hat remained, lying on the ground, but Midna had definitely vanished. In her place, a woman with grey skin and bright blue tattoos stood. She had red hair that rippled like fire in the wind, bright red eyes that seemed to sear the soul, and a black dress that was really more like a shawl: the bits added on at the front to preserve decency looked like an afterthought. She was also absolutely gorgeous, with an hourglass figure and a sly beauty about her face.

It was only when Wario spotted the emerald ring about her slender grey finger that he recognised her.

"So, Wario," said Midna in a voice that gurgled like molten sugar, "would _you_ have me banished for indecent exposure?"

"No," was the firm reply.

**6**

**1 ****And it came to pass that the Master Hand did approach the Crazy Hand, and it seemed peculiarly agitated. And this was contrary to the normal state of affairs. ****2 ****And before the Crazy Hand could make any strange noises, the Master Hand did intone: "Lo, it seems that the SubSpace I created is not inert as I at first thought." **

**3 ****And it did drag the Crazy Hand unto the area just before the Gate of Souls, where a purple platform was suspended. And there was standing there a villain of the world of SubSpace, and he was powerful beyond belief. ****4 ****And the Crazy Hand did ask, "What in the name of bibble has happened unto him?" ****5 ****And the Master Hand responded thus: "He entered the Gate of Souls clumsily, and did take a massive blast of SubSpace to the face; but he absorbed the power and has become mighty. That was not meant to happen." ****6 ****And so did the Crazy Hand say: "Well, shit."**

**7 ****And did the Hands in their predicament call unto a hero to save them, but the hero instead of absorbing the SubSpace power was frozen in time. And he did resemble nought but a figurine. ****8 ****But they did create a space of Space rather than SubSpace over the platform, that the hero might move. ****9 ****And in time and with much difficulty did the hero overcome the villain, and the villain was evicted from the Gate of Souls, and his memory wiped. ****10 ****And then too was the hero evicted, and his memory wiped; and there was much rejoicing. **


	13. 6 Lust i

**§6 Lust**

It was like being carried along by an extremely secure and attractive ship. The Captain's muscular arms were clamped firmly around Peach's legs, making her feel very safe above the burning sand. The thrill of being transported by handsome cab distracted her entirely from everything else, no matter how often she gave herself a mental slap and attempted to take her mind off it.

She tried, though. She tried thinking of her enslaved kingdom and of her poor Mario, locked away in hellish captivity, suffering horribly no doubt and pining away for love of her; but the last time she had seen a Mario brother it had been that pathetic object her co-royal Daisy seemed to be fond of, and she kept getting the moustaches mixed up, automatically rendering Mario less good looking.

When that failed, she tried enriching her eyes with the beauty of the desert. Large pyramids were stuck in the sand at intervals, oases reflected the sun into her eyes and lines of camels hobbled on, stopping occasionally to spit. It was no good: the beauty of the desert completely failed to touch her. She decided to give up and approach the subject matter head-on.

"Hey, Falcon," she said, trying not to inhale sand, "I must be weighing you down. What do you say we go take a rest by the oasis? It'd be nice to relax a bit before we go and save the world."

No answer. Plod, plod, plod. Peach tugged the auburn hair gently.

"Captain?"

The Captain seemed to have just become aware of the woman atop his shoulders.

"What did you say?" he said, in the manner of a man with other things on his mind than a princess' dainty hand.

Peach, somewhat disheartened, summarised her request.

"Not really. I'd forgotten you were even there."

Peach was somewhat piqued that she had been so easily forgotten about, and declared to herself that she would give this clueless mound of muscle something to remember by when they parted ways. Indeed, as the wind picked up and picked up sand, she felt that the occasion in question might be sooner than she had thought.

"What's going on?" demanded the Captain as sand eroded his face.

He noticed that all right. Peach looked at the whirlwinds with their malicious grins approaching from afar, eyes fixed on the duo.

"Tweester tornadoes!" she cried.

Peach's mind had been trained by years of trying to avoid kidnap (and admittedly failing most of the time) to be adept at making the best of whatever situation life might present her with. Slowly, a plan began to form. She stared at the clouds high above: they were moving in a westerly direction. Perfect.

"What have we done to them?" asked the Captain, backing away from the twisty troublemakers.

"Oh, nothing. They just like tossing people in the air for fun. They can be helpful sometimes, though."

Time to act. Peach disentangled herself from the Captain's arms and shoulders, and dropped to the ground as delicately as possible, i.e. not very.

"Well, I guess this is it for now," she said. "See you when we've got the keys."

"We can't give up!" said the Captain, taking the princess' hand and sending a slight shiver through her body. "Even with you on my back, we can still outrun them!"

"I'm not giving up," said Peach, pulling her hand away. "I'm taking a shortcut."

Oh God oh God oh God. Peach could feel her insides telling her firmly not to do what she was about to do, but she ignored the feeling, grasped the Captain's hair and clumsily pulled his face towards hers. When the distance was small enough to ensure no embarrassing misses, she hurled her arms around his rock-hard body and kissed him. It was not one of the most satisfying kisses she had ever partaken of, due to the kissee being too astonished to really reciprocate and the fact that his lips were hard and sand-chapped anyway, but the deed was done. She quickly extricated herself and ran away from him as fast as possible, blushing with the stupidity of it all.

"See you later!" she called back, barely able to hear her own voice.

Her stomach was doing the ballet, a feeling that was in no way reduced when she finally hit the Tweesters; but as they threw her around like a basketball, adding spin and varying angles at will, she felt glad to be away from that stupid stupid man who had made her act like a fool. She was grateful when they tossed her high into the air and she knew she would not see him for a week.

She was even more grateful when she heard an anguished shout from down below. So he had liked it after all.

o o o

Peach always came prepared. When a party was planned, she made sure she had a massive cake ready to greet the guests; when there were rumours that Bowser was on the loose, she packed an overnight bag just in case; and when she went on an adventure, she always brought her parasol.

To the untrained eye, it looked like a normal pink lace sunshade; in reality, it had a handle reinforced with carbon fibres, strong yet lightweight, and the shade itself was sturdy enough to retain air without flipping inside-out. The upshot was that this parasol could be used to float delicately down from leg-breaking heights.

With a favourable wind, such as the one now blowing over Dry Dry Desert, princess and parasol could glide together over several miles before she came down. Peach's arms were deceptively strong, and she found clinging onto the handle easier than walking. Hence the shortcut: in the time it would have taken her to struggle, tired and sweaty, out of Dry Dry Desert on foot, Peach could have floated over a good portion of the Mushroom Kingdom, assuming the wind kept up and nobody attempted to shoot peanuts at her.

Sadly, this is exactly what came to pass. The fabric used to make the shade was mighty indeed, but it was already stretched to its maximum by falling and wind. The quickly moving nut was the last straw. It created a small hole in the material that let the air through and caused Peach to quickly fall earthwards. As her life flashed before her eyes, she dearly missed her pink dress and its skirt's similar air retention capabilities.

If only the Capt… Mario was here to catch her…

But in the absence of Mario the soft sand was good enough, and Peach hit Dry Dry Desert suffering only minor bruising, a punctured parasol and wounded pride.

"Got you!"

Peach spat sand and looked up at the figure in front of her, a slightly built monkey carrying two wooden pistols. It was the red t-shirt and similarly hued cap that gave his identity away.

"Diddy Kong?" she asked, groaning inside.

"You better believe it, missy! Now, what were you doing tracking me from the air? Thought you could get one over on the Dids, eh?"

He bent down and looked into Peach's enraged blue eyes. Then he hopped back with a strangled squawking sound.

"Princess… Peach?" he asked.

"Hello."

"Ohmigod I'm like _so_ sorry!" Diddy squealed, helping her up as best he could and brushing sand off her tatty dress. "I thought you'd be a LOVE spy tracking me down I am so, _so_ sorry I really didn't mean to I guess what I mean to say is that I couldn't see the pink dress from so high up…"

"I'm not wearing the pink dress."

"Aren't you? Oh goodness me so you aren't! Well fancy that! Princess I'm so very sorry if I'd know it was you I'd never have shot you! Was a good shot, wasn't it though?"

Yeah, great shot. Now I'm going to have to walk the rest of the way. Thanks so much, Diddy. Peach walked haughtily off in the same direction as the clouds, turning her back on the yelping simian.

"So where you going Princess?" asked Diddy, springing after her. "You going west? That's where I'm going! We could like tag along for a bit – what with your beauty and my shooting skills and go-kart, we'll be unstoppable! We'll be like Mario and Luigi, only you're a princess and I'm a monkey!"

And you're not locked up, unfortunately.

"Two words," said Peach, turning on the monkey. "Quit; bugging; me what did you say about a go-kart?"

"C'mon, I'll show you Princess!" squealed Diddy, pulling at her skirt. "It's from the old days when we used to have those racing competitions and you had two people in every kart. Hey, I can drive and you can sit in the back! It'll be so cool!"

Peach's heart had reached its nadir. She followed the squealing creature to his kart, which looked more like a wooden train, with glum and heavy footsteps. True, she would rather be driven through the Mushroom Kingdom than have to walk or hitchhike, but she would rather be driven by someone (or indeed anyone) other than the annoying squealing flea-bitten creature whose vehicle she was now stepping into.

"All aboard the Barrel Train!" yelled Diddy, taking the driver's seat. "Y'know, I like trains. Also stroking hair. And guitar playing. We're gonna have so much to talk about! Toot toot!"

And there was no legroom – she would have to stick her legs out of the sides. Just great.

o o o

"Wow! You've had some amazing adventures, Princess. You wanna hear about what I've been doing?"

No she did not. The only reason Peach had talked as much as she had, almost incessantly from Dry Dry Desert onto the country roads, was so as to give her yelping driver no opportunity to say more than a few words. His voice aggravated her no end; if mosquitos could talk, they would sound like Diddy Kong. So far, she had told the mosquito the vast majority of what had befallen her and the LOL save anything that might be to do with fancying men who were not Mario, but having reached the point where she was shot down her mind was drawing a blank.

"Well, I'll tell you," said Diddy, without waiting for an answer. "You ready, Princess?"

Peach braced herself.

"Okay so I live on Donkey Kong Island, which as you probably know is off the west coast of the Mushroom Kingdom connected by this giant bridge, and it looks just like my uncle's head! I live there with my uncle Donkey Kong and all his family and friends and it's really cool hey you should come and visit some time! So anyway one day, we're all gathered around a table playing cards and I'm picking some lice out of Dixie Kong's fur, when there's this huge commotion off in the jungle! So Uncle goes out to investigate while the rest of us keep our heads down…"

Diddy paused. Through the aggravation, Peach was impressed – the monkey had spat this all out like a machine gun without any visible breaks to inhale. But now his behaviour had changed. His habitual inane grin was replaced by a solemn stare at the road ahead.

"…and he never came back."

Purged, thought Peach.

"I'm sorry, Diddy," she said.

"But that's not the worst of it! Eventually he did come back, it was like half a year later, so I guess not quite _never_, but then he started throwing his weight around and bullying us and playing his bongos late into the night and making the jungle a nasty place to live. He seemed even stronger, too – one day Funky Kong tells him to stop, and Funky's built like a brick house, but the next thing we know Uncle's hurled him halfway across the jungle!"

Peach knew something about the Kong clan, inhabitants of her country as they were. A bunch of mangy apes and monkeys, the dregs of the simian gene pool, were mixed up in a blender and spat out into the jungle, resulting in a group of mammals that were apparently all inter-related despite including gorillas, monkeys, chimps and an orang-utan. Donkey Kong, a massive gorilla and patriarch of the clan, was the only one of real note – he usually made a good showing in the Mushroom Kingdom's various sporting events, using his titanic strength to his advantage, and had saved his clan and precious banana hoard many times from threats to the island that nature had shaped like his ugly mug. No wonder the LOVE wanted to get hold of him and, by the sound of things, clone him.

"I managed to work out that the LOVE had done something to Uncle," Diddy blabbered on, sounding proud of himself, "so I decided to go out into the world beyond the jungle and teach them a lesson! 'Cause y'know Uncle's all big and scary and stuff and I didn't wanna fight _him_. I packed up my guitar and my popguns and my rocketbarrels and some bananas for the journey and set off to find the LOVE!

"Turns out that the LOVE are big and scary too. I first went to Hyrule and tried to stop them there, but I got into trouble with some of those big pig things. So I decided to find a group who were also fighting the LOVE and help them out by shooting stuff! I can shoot stuff real good, you know. But there aren't so many of them, so I had to keep searching – until I found the Greil Mercenaries!

"But they weren't so nice either. There was a lot of training, and everyone kept ignoring me and calling me annoying and telling me not to play my guitar in case it drew attention to our position. But then you guys came along! The League of Legends! I've always wanted to become a legend, so I thought I'd help you guys out! But then you left camp without me. So I followed you!"

"Good for you."

"I know, right? I used my rocketbarrels my rocketbarrels by the way are like a jetpack only they use banana peels as fuel so I used my rocketbarrels to fly over the ocean to Kanto! But then I lost you. But then I found you again! Well, one of you. Hey, wasn't it a good thing that I shot you down by accident? If I hadn't, we'd never have met! So where in the Mushroom Kingdom are you going, Princess?"

The cyan dot on the map had been over a small island off the west coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Peach's heart was heavy as she replied: "Donkey Kong Island."

"That's where I'm going! What a coincidence!"

Of course you are.

"Halt."

Diddy's wooden train screeched to a stop before the two Magikoopas, their blue robes complemented by purple sashes and official looking badges. They waved their magic wands as a policeman might brandish his truncheon. For once on her journey, Peach thanked her god for her grubby clothes and greasy hair. Diddy had stuffed his baseball cap and t-shirt into the compartment usually reserved for weapons to scupper opponents in the Mushroom Kingdom Grand Prix, so they were safe for the time being.

"What seems to be the problem, officers?" asked Peach innocently.

"Nothing, ma'am," said Left Magikoopa. "Just your regular inspection. Identity papers please."

Gulp.

"Do they do regular inspections along the road now?" she inquired.

"Only since reports of that anti-LOVE group started circulating. It's all in the interest of public security. So, papers, please."

Peach frantically racked her brains, hoping that the racking was not outwardly visible. It was obvious from the forlorn way Diddy looked at her that he had no papers either. But then, monkeys did not tend to carry papers…

"My papers are at the office," she said, smiling sweetly. "I could get them if you want."

"And where would this office be, pray?" asked Lefty.

"Near Donkey Kong Island? I work at a monkey rehab centre, and I was just taking this one into the jungle for the first time."

Righty's beak creased into a smile. "Aww. I love monkeys."

"Do you?" said Peach with well-feigned enthusiasm. "I've wanted to work with them since I was six. They're such clever animals!"

Having up until now stared at Peach with an expression of sheer confusion, Diddy finally cottoned on. He "ook"ed and "eek"ed and scratched his head and banged on the steering wheel. Peach chuckled indulgently and tousled his headfur.

Lefty looked at him suspiciously. "Why is this monkey in the driving seat?"

"I know!" said Peach, squeezing herself out of her cubbyhole at the back. "He's just impossible, this one. A real mischief maker." She dragged Diddy out of the driving seat; Diddy immediately started to pull her hair. "Ow! Come on, you little devil."

"But he was driving just now…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ernie," said Righty. "Monkeys can't drive cars."

Peach squeezed her way into the driving seat. It was marginally more comfortable, or it would have been without Diddy clinging onto her back and hooting in her ear.

"All right, Miss," said the one named Ernie, "but just you see you have those papers next time. Off you go."

"And say hi to the monkeys for me," said his colleague with a grin.

"Will do!"

Through their thick glasses, the Magikoopas watched the little train chuff-chuff-chuff steadily into the distance, wobbling occasionally as if the driver had never used it before.

"Y'know, Arnie," said Ernie, "that woman looked a lot like Princess Peach."

"Oh, don't be stupid, Ernie. The Princess'd never be seen dead with hair like that."

o o o

Time passes.

Diddy did have a lot to talk about. He talked about his uncle, playing guitar, his girlfriend/cousin Dixie, shooting, playing guitar, the jungle, bananas, shooting, how much he admired the LOL, playing guitar… Peach was intensely grateful when the monkey dismally admitted that he had left his guitar back in Archanea, worried as she had been that a solo was forthcoming.

In time, she got used to the train's non-standard controls, and reciting her monkey story, and even to the incessant yak-yak-yak from the back seat that would have driven Axe Knight insane. She could drive on autopilot and let her mind float into a world of its own. In that world, she was lying on a balmy beach, or watching the stars from the top of a hill, or simply relaxing on the roof of her castle, the LOVE long defeated and natural order restored. At first she tried to force Mario to be in the pictures with her, but after a while caved in and replaced him with the strong arms and chiselled jaw of Douglas Jay Falcon, Falcon Punching away anyone who tried to interrupt their tryst.

They drove around the big cities and slept in small inns by the wayside. Diddy initially suggested sharing a room, but after seeing the frying pan quickly changed his mind. The woman and the monkey attracted a lot of stares and a few questions, until Peach dropped into a clothes shop and bought some shorts and a khaki t-shirt, burning her old disguise at night in a dustbin. She also bought some shampoo and conditioner – unkempt jungle hair might have been more authentic, but she could swear it _moved_ some times at night. With clean hair and short clothing, she still attracted stares (especially from the Toads, whose mushroom heads were at bottom height) but of a more acceptable variety.

And time passes.

o o o

"I thought we were avoiding the major cities!"

Peach did not answer at once. Diamond City had been a semi-autonomous city-state surrounded by the Mushroom Kingdom. Even before the LOVE was formed, Wario had bought up most of the land and buildings, so the city, almost twice as big as Toad Town, sort of belonged to him, but ruling bored the fat man and he had let Peach run it as part of the Mushroom Kingdom while he searched for riches. Now, it was just another gem (a diamond, perhaps) in Bowser's crown.

As its former "ruler", Peach had a natural interest in how her ex-citizens were getting on, but why Diamond City, a city she had barely owned? Maybe it was because the city was slightly foreign to her anyway, or maybe the time spent travelling with Wario had made her take an interest in the red-nosed one's dealings, or maybe it was just that it was big and shiny and Peach liked diamonds. Whatever the reason, she was driving the Barrel Train through the leafy suburbs towards the hustle and bustle of the city centre.

"They'll spot us!" wailed Diddy. "It'll be crawling with guards! Oh Hands, I don't want to die!"

"You won't die!" hissed Peach. "I work for a monkey rehab charity; you are my monkey. You are coming into Diamond City to do some education work about the environment. Bowser can't have banned that."

The skyscrapers were coming in thick and fast now. The townspeople would have been stuck in perpetually darkness, walking in the shadows cast by the giant buildings, had it not been for the bright sunlight reflecting off the glass panes onto the streets below. Anyway, there were hardly any townspeople to walk in shadow. Diamond City was usually a hub of commerce, yet now it seemed as dead as Zelda's hidden village. This unnerved Peach – during Wario's reign, the city had become a haven for the financial sector, as Wario was forced to spend his wealth in LOVE-approved fashion on state finance rather than on excessive amounts of garlic. Now, it was as dead as Smashville.

She tried to make light of the situation. "Crawling with guards, eh? There's no-one here!"

"Excuse me!"

The train screeched to a halt as an old Toad threw himself out in front of the vehicle. Panting slightly, Peach took a moment to survey the venerable suicidal. His brown waistcoat was patched up and filthy, his glasses were broken and his moustache, presumably white once, was grey with dirt. His sagging mushroom head bore dark brown spots, the same colour as his battered cane.

"I do beg your pardon, ma'am," he said in an educated voice, "but could you possibly lend a few coins to an old Toad who has fallen upon hard times?"

"Toadsworth?" said Peach quietly.

The old Toad cringed instinctively. When he was quite sure that no violence was following his name, he peered at the princess through his broken glasses and started.

"Princess… Peach?" he said softly, his eyes brimming with tears.

Peach clambered out, bent down and patted Toadsworth on the back as he wept softly into her shoulder, leaving Diddy to look on in confusion.

"Oh Princess, I'm so glad you're safe, wot!" heaved Toadsworth in between sobs. "You're a sight for a sore aide! When they kicked me out of the castle and took Master Mario…"

"Never mind me," said Peach a bit sharply. "What about you? What's happened to this place?"

Toadsworth stood on his stumpy legs, swaying only slightly on his cane, and coughed.

"After excrement went down," he said tremulously, "I fled Bowser's guards and took up residence here, in Diamond City. It was as far as an old Toad like me could travel, otherwise I'd have made for Yoshi's Island. But it was good enough here – Wario's greed was curbed by the taxes being the same as everywhere else, and no one recognised me as long as I kept my head down and did as I was told.

"But not so long ago, some guards came knocking. Not at mine alone – I heard them coming down the street, banging, entering and leaving. When they reached me, I answered the door to two burly Koopa Troopers, one of whom kicked me across the room! And when I tried to ask him where his manners were, he laughed and spat in my face!

"I soon found out what they were really here for. Bowser had called for an investigation: everyone in Diamond City was being questioned about the League of Legends, and whether they'd seen you! Wario's old haunt, you see. They figured someone must know something."

Bowser's obsession driving him onwards, thought Peach bitterly. "Go on."

"I told them I knew nothing, as was the truth… But then they recognised me. Said Peach must be in contact with me. I protested my innocence, but they kicked me about until I could hardly stand. I presume they must have knocked me unconscious, because next thing I remember the house had been ransacked, the door had been torn off its hinges and the miscreants had gone."

"Oh Toadsworth!"

"Oh, don't worry about me," said Toadsworth, swaying a bit more now. "I'm staying at a friend's place. They'd already beaten him up, so we're safe for now. And I'm trying to pay him back for his hospitality by begging. Not going so well, mind you – everyone's LOVE-taxed to pieces, and no one comes out any more for fear of another Bowser attack… I think I'll sit down, actually. I'm feeling a tad faint, don't you know."

As Toadsworth sat on the street, fanning his face with his hand, Peach took stock. Bowser, still crazy about getting her back or stopping the LOL or both, had come to the conclusion that since she was travelling with Wario, Wario must have told a friend in his old dominion where he was. This was stupid: (a) Wario broke ties with Diamond City when he joined the LOL; (b) Wario was not thick enough to tell anyone where he, a wanted criminal, was going; and (c) Wario had no friends to tell. And for this, the Koopa had wrecked what was almost part of her ex-kingdom and beaten up her faithful old retainer.

Her blood boiled.

"Princess!" yelped Diddy in hushed tones. "Guards!"

"Good," said Peach, turning around. "Get the motor running."

Diddy hopped into the driving seat and revved the acceleration pedal. To his surprise, Peach walked straight past him and towards two burly Koopa Troopers with LOVE insignias. He was worried for her. Had he seen the look on her face, he might not have been.

"Hoy, you!" shouted one Koopa Trooper. "What're you doing, blocking the road?"

"Yeah," said the other. "And while you're at it, have you seen Princess Peach lately?"

Peach slid her hand down her top.

"Is that where you keep your papers?" said the other with a smile. "Ooh, saucy."

"You're sick, Frank," said the one. "Ogling humans like that. It ain't…"

The assembled company would never find out what it wasn't, because at that moment Peach's hand emerged holding a frying pan. How it fit down her small t-shirt, we may never know. What we do know is that it put a short sharp end to the one's consciousness, and did for Frank in a similar manner. Then it embedded itself in the scaly skins of the two repeatedly, while Diddy and Toadsworth tried to pull her away and persuade her to stop respectively.

"This is for my people," said Peach grimly.

"You'll get us killed!" yelped Diddy.

"Princess, please!" besought Toadsworth. "They're not worth getting captured over!"

The bloodstained frying pan drooped, along with the arm holding it. Peach let herself be hustled by Diddy back into the passenger seat of the Barrel Train, which was then driven in the opposite direction to that of their approach with all possible speed. Toadsworth looked around briefly before hobbling off down a side alley.

Two pairs of eyes, small black ones and swirly glasses, watched them go.

o o o

Bowser sat hunched over, looking despairingly at the stationary figure. He put one scaly orange hand on its head and let purple energy flow up from the figure into his claws. Slowly, the figure began to move, and by the time Bowser took his hand away Bowser Junior was fully mobile once more.

"Did it work, Dad?" he asked. "Am I super-powerful like you now?"

Bowser sighed and smiled sadly at his son. "Not yet, Junior. But we'll keep trying. You've got to brace yourself, think dark thoughts."

The funeral march that came from his desk telephone certainly inspired dark thoughts. Bowser waved his son out of the room, leaving just him and the cleaning squad, still trying to remove the remains of Bowser's ill-advised decision to have the sludge-spewing Petey Piranha guard his chambers.

"Yeah what?" he growled into the receiver.

"Und hallo to you too."

"Ludwig, this is not a good time," said Bowser, trying to be calm.

"Not a good time to tell you zat Iggy and I haff seen ze Princess? Okay, please yourself. I vill call back later."

Bowser's eyes grew several sizes and he jerked out of his slump. "Of course it's a good time! What was she doing?"

"Mmm… Nope. No, you said it is not a good time, so I vill haff to call you back. Auf wiedersehen, Papa."

Bowser drew a deep breath. "Ludwig, I'm sorry for shouting at you. I'm just having some problems at the moment. Now please, tell me!"

There was the sound of someone humming, as if considering his options, and of another person laughing. The laugh started low, went high and cackly and then sunk again into gloopy chuckles.

"Okay," said Ludwig at last. "I vill tell you vhat ve saw. Iggy says hi, by ze vay."

"I heard."

"It voz definitely her. She looked very different – no pink dress, just tiny t-shirt and short shorts, but it voz her."

Bowser's breaths down the line became slightly quicker and harder. "How can you be sure?"

"Ze blonde hair, ze big soupy eyes – definitely her. Plus, she voz talking to Toadsvurss, and zen she smashed two Koopa Troopers over ze head viz a frying pan."

"How dare she?" said Bowser, not sounding as if he meant it. "Those are my troops!"

"Zen she and a monkey drove avay in a Double Dash kart. Ve are now also pursuing zem in a Double Dash kart."

"Where did you get a Double Dash Kart?"

More gloopy chuckling from the other end of the line.

"Iggy made it out of ze scrap metals. It handles like a dream. Votch out, ve are going to hit ze tree! No, not ze river turn right, turn right, no ze uzzer right! Whew… But he drives like shit."

"Keep following them, my children," said Bowser, barely breathing, "and if anything else happens let me know."

"At vunce, King Dad."

As the line went dead, Bowser slammed his palm into his forehead. He was meant to be trying to distance himself from his other children, not feel proud of them.

o o o

Diddy stayed firmly behind the wheel from then on, frightened that Peach would drag them off to another brutal massacre that might get the two of them into trouble. He need not have worried – her little act of vengeance done, Peach was happy to lie in the back seat, raging against Bowser and thinking of all the wonderful ways she and Captain Falcon would crack open his horny head (in both senses of the adjective).

The journey proceeded without further incident. They drove, they ate, they slept, they pretended to be a woman working for a charity and a monkey she worked with, and generally all was as good as could be. The days passed, until six days after set-off they had journeyed across the massive suspension bridge built not long before the LOVE took over to link DK Island with the Mushroom Kingdom mainland. Now the jungle stretched out before them, rich and green and dark and filled with strange noise.

It was a sudden change. One crossed the bridge, gleaming and shining in the afternoon sun and utterly empty, and then as soon as the bridge ended BAM. Thick trees, shrubbery and a sudden increase in humidity, all radiating from a massive island with a rock that did indeed look like DK's head as a centrepiece. The screeching of cicadas echoed out of gaps in the greenery.

Peach hopped out of the train and stretched her legs gratefully. The lack of legroom had forced her to ride the passenger seat like a horse, legs stretched out on either side. Diddy remained in his driver's seat, looking out at the forest.

"Well," he said with a nervous chuckle, "this is it. DK Island. My ex-home. Hope your journey goes well, Princess!"

"Wait a minute," said Peach, turning on the monkey. "You said you were going to the island yourself. Not keen for some jungle japes?"

Diddy giggled. "The thing is, Princess… er… I just don't feel like coming! I fancy a hotdog, and you can't get hotdogs in the jungle! So I'll just take the train back, and…"

"Fair enough," said Peach quickly. "I can handle myself in the jungle; don't you worry about me! You go off and have a hotdog, enjoy yourself now won't you, byee!"

She cantered into the jungle before he could change his mind and come after her. Nimbly she leapt over low hanging logs, dodged trunks and ducked under creepers, until a vine at ankle height caught her foot and she fell face down in the soft forest mud.

Removing her mud-caked face from the soil, her ears were filled with jungle racket. The cicadas, loud from outside, now seemed deafening, and they were joined by a cacophony of birds and hooting apes. Factoring in the oppressive heat, moisture level and lack of any sense of direction, and Peach was seriously regretting leaving Diddy behind.

"It's three words."

Although suddenly the heat, moisture level and lack of any sense of direction did not seem so bad.

"What is?"

"'Quit bugging me'," said Diddy, dressed in t-shirt and cap again. "You said 'Two words'. It's three."

"Why are you here, Diddy?" asked Peach, trying to pick herself up and plunging an arm into a sinkhole.

"There are two spiny evil-looking creatures in a vehicle outside. I think they're looking for us. So, you need any help finding your way? Or something you want shooting? Hey, I can pretend to be a monkey again! I was really good at that, because – I am a monkey!"

Peach weighed the pros and cons of the situation. On the one hand, there was the possibility of getting another lecture on precisely why F# Major was Diddy's favourite key for playing the guitar in. On the other hand, there was the possibility of getting horribly lost in the rainforest, bitten half to death by mosquitos and having the other half pounded into jam by an angry ape clone.

"Oh, well, if you insist…"

o o o

Bowser sat hunched over, looking despairingly at the stationary figure. He put one scaly orange hand on its head and let purple energy flow up from the figure into his claws. Slowly, the figure began to move, and by the time Bowser took his hand away Kammy was fully mobile once more.

"Did it work, Your SubSpaceyness?" she asked. "Was the energy transfer successful?"

"No," said Bowser tetchily, "no it wasn't. You've got to try being more evil, Kammy. Cut down the chirpy optimism and start being truly diabolical."

"Ah, that's a shame," said Kammy chirpily. "Because you see, King Bowser, I'm awfully good at chirpy optimism, and not so good at being diabolical."

"I know."

The BowserPhone played its march. Bowser pushed his swivel chair with such vigour that he collided with his desk and knocked off several small objects. He fumbled the receiver several times before he picked it up.

"Bowser Koopa," he said, "and if you're going to tell me again that I have won and I just need to tell you my bank details to claim a million coins I will trace the call and have your company rased to the ground."

"I vozn't going to, actually."

"Ludwig, thank Hands it's you! What have you seen?"

"Vell, ve followed zem all ze vay to DK Island. Trouble voz, zere voz not much cover outside ze jungle…"

Gloop cackle gloop.

"…and even if zere had been, zey vould haff found us due to Iggy's _constant laughink_."

"They saw you?"

"Ze monkey. Zen he vent back into ze jungle viz ze princess."

There was a pause. Bowser did not know how she had found out about it, but he had a good idea why the princess was where she was. The monkey was an extra annoyance, but…

Oh no.

"The _jungle_?" Bowser yelled.

"Bitte?"

"Peach and her monkey friend went into the _jungle_!"

"Zat's vhat ve saw."

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit… Ludwig, I have to go. Thanks for the info see you later."

"Kind Dad, vait!"

"What?"

A brief pause. When Ludwig spoke again, his voice was timid. "Since Iggy and I found ze princess for you, can ve… can ve be generals of ze Mushroom Kingdom army again?"

"Yes, yes, you're both promoted. Talk to you later."

"Okay! Good-bye, King Dad!"

The line went dead, but Ludwig was happy. He gazed up at the sky, thoughts of a jolly jig in G going through his head. His father had recognised him! Oh frabjous day!

Iggy just rubbed his hands and chuckled darkly.


	14. 6 Lust ii

He seemed to fill their vision. A huge mound of fur and muscle, his abdominals rippling in the mottled jungle light, his bright blue eyes shining down upon the Princess and the monkey. He slowly brought up fists the size of pork chops and banged on his chest, each beat accompanied by a solid thump, while his large mouth with teeth like slices of white bread yelled into the skies, sending the parrots that populated the jungle's trees flapping skywards shrieking.

"That's Uncle," said Diddy.

"Not strictly speaking," whispered Peach, "but close enough."

The incongruous red tie about the gorilla's neck, along with the tuft of hair springing from his mighty cranium, were the marks that identified the ape as Donkey Kong. The blue light emanating from his eyes identified him as a Project Z clone.

"I knew coming into the jungle was a bad idea," yelled Diddy hysterically. "Why did we come into the jungle in the first place?"

DK (as he was commonly known) fixed one cyan eye upon his nephew and leapt into the air. The sunshine that filtered through the leaves shone out behind him as he flew and descended, drawing back one chop-sized fist and slamming it into where Diddy would have been, leaving a hole in the ground and a shockwave that threw Peach into the air. Diddy squeaked madly and pulled out his wooden pistols.

"Leave Peach alone!" he shouted. "She's my friend!"

DK was all too happy to oblige and leapt at Diddy again, taking a swipe at the monkey. Looking regretful, Diddy fired several peanuts from his pistols, but they shattered against his uncle's physique and barely slowed him down. Peach's tennis racket to the head was more effective: it made DK turn around and stare at her with fury in his eyes.

"I said leave her alone!" cried Diddy, unloading his guns into the furry back that was facing him.

The gorilla seemed to have forgotten about his nephew. The cyan gaze was fixed firmly on Peach, who despite her defiant stare seemed to be trying to hide behind her racket.

"I wanted the frying pan," she said to herself. "I wanted the frying pan and I picked out the tennis racket. Why did I even bring the tennis racket? What good did I think that would be against the evils of the LOVE?"

A great fist caught her by the waist and tossed her up over the ape's shoulder like a doll. Diddy had activated his rocketbarrels and was flying deftly through the vegetation, peppering DK with nuts, but DK lacked the allergy that might have made the projectiles fatal and clambered up into the canopy with Peach on his back, smashing him across the head with little to no effect. As they climbed higher, the noise of Diddy's yelping from below faded out, replaced by the rushing by of branch after branch.

At last, DK leapt from the canopy into the sunset, seemed to hang for a minute and then came down gently onto the top of a tree. He placed Peach on a leaf bigger and wider than the two of them combined, and then roared sunwards in what sounded like triumph while playing a complex drum solo on his pectorals.

"Diddy!" yelled Peach.

A finger the size of a large sausage pressed itself against her lips, while the other hand gently removed the racket from her hand and threw it into the trees. Then the great ape dropped back through the canopy, leaving Peach to survey the situation.

So far in her journey through the jungle, the princess had fallen in the mud, submerged her arm in the same mud, stepped in a jungle pool, got parrot dropping in her hair, narrowly avoided a boa constrictor looking to give her a hug, listened to a repeat of the F# Major speech, been kidnapped by an evil gorilla clone and contracted over fifty mosquito bites. She looked a mess, she felt a mess and if Diddy did not arrive soon to save her she would make a mess of his head.

Donkey Kong did not seem to be returning for a while, so Peach made use of the time to reflect. The leaf was at least reasonably comfortable, so she stretched out upon it and, gazing at the crimson-streaked sky, lay a while in thought.

Poor Toadsworth, she mused. Beaten to within an inch of his life for not knowing where she was. In the olden days it was never like this. There was no running around the country, no battling giant robots, no blue jackals or purple cats or cap-wearing kids hacking into your brain, no SubSpace keys, no being assaulted by giant apes. Not for her. She just sat in her castle, or Bowser's occasionally, and ran the country. Life was simple.

Of course, there was no Captain Falcon back then, either.

However, this was one moment where, stupid romance aside, Mario would have been better to have on call. He was adept at rescuing damsels from the clutches of apes. Donkey Kong's father had possessed a penchant for capturing attractive ladies – one after another he would steal away the plumber's many and varied girlfriends, only to have them forcibly retrieved.

Mario would have leapt from tree to tree, vine to vine. He was every bit as agile as DK, and with a more impressive jump. Once at the top, he would have battled DK in style, eventually defeating him by knocking him off the canopy or jumping on his head repeatedly or something similar. Then he would have helped Peach down like a gentleman, holding no more than her hand.

What would the Captain have done? Punched something, probably. What help would that have been? A Falcon Punch to the tree would have sent her crashing to the ground, resulting in torn clothing and pain. Mind you, there was always the possibility of him catching her in his rugged arms as she fell, holding her close as he fought off the aggressor one-handed and sharing a passionate moment in the aftermath…

Peach descended from the dreamy heights to find DK standing on the leaf before her, hands behind his back, cyan eyes not harsh and glittery but shining softly like sapphires at dusk. She knew that look all too well, but it surprised her to see it on a Project Z clone.

DK walked slowly up to her and revealed his hands. Clasped in one was a curved metal object, glimmering in the light from its bearer's eyes.

"A golden banana? Oh no, I couldn't possibly…"

But it had been pushed into her palms. DK took a step back and looked at her face with his head on one side, twisting his fingers awkwardly.

Peach smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Kong. That's very thoughtful."

"Mr. Kong" broke into a massive grin, his teeth glimmering even more than the banana.

"Come here, Donkey," said Peach.

The ape toddled up to her like an obedient puppy and craned his neck down to be scratched. His fur was rough and tangled and no doubt lice-infested, but Peach overcame her distaste and sang while she rubbed.

Peach's voice was astonishingly high. It made dogs cover their ears, and was no doubt the reason that the Zubats had shown a particular desire for her in Mount Moon. It was therefore not best suited to the singing of low, calming lullabies. However, there was one item in her repertoire that, while not as soothing as Jigglypuff's melodies, could still charm anyone within listening distance into heavy slumber. It was inherited from Peach's mother, the previous Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom, and was called "The Song of Peaches".

Peach sang it now, in a faltering voice, describing how ten peaches in an orchard did grow, wondering as she sang how easy it would be to slip the dozy ape's giant head off her lap after he fell asleep, whether she could do it without waking him and how far she could run while he dozed. DK had no such worries. A foolish smile upon his face, he closed his eyes and willingly abandoned himself to whatever dreams Project Z clones may have. Soon he was emitting titanic snores, and Peach involuntarily caught sight of the purple sparkles down his throat.

The peaceful scene (sunset, bird calls, dozing ape) was interrupted by Diddy bursting through the canopy, rocketbarrels-a-blazin' and guns all ready to blaze. His determined expression turned to confusion, the fire in his rocketbarrels fading like the fire in his mind.

"What are you…?"

"Shhh," hissed Peach. "The clone of your uncle's asleep. I just need to shift his head…"

She stopped talking.

"Diddy," she said in a worried tone, "did you just feel something tilt?"

"Yes," Diddy replied. "I think it might have been the tree."

o o o

CreeeeeaaaaaAAAASNAPSNAP**CRASH**.

Onomatopoeia fails me. Even if I was able to accurately display in the symbols on my keyboard the sound of the great tree collapsing, how could I then expect to describe the high-pitched scream of the princess, the forlorn wail of the monkey and the anguished bellow of the gorilla? I could not. Better just to say that as the tree neared the end of its earthward journey, Diddy jetted off while DK wrapped his furry body around Peach, who was stunned enough not to object to the smell of damp ape pelt. They fell from their perch in a hairy ball that unravelled relatively unharmed.

"Get your stinking paws off her, you damn dirty ape!"

Two shapes were partly visible through the trees. In true comedy duo fashion, one was large and the other small. The large one was seething with undisguised rage, making his large horns, spiked shell and immense stature even more intimidating. The small one, clothed in purple, appeared to be sucking a sweet.

"Bowser?" said Peach.

DK gave a hoot of rage and positioned himself between Peach and her perpetual antagonist, fists raised.

"How interesting," said Kammy. "It appears that the Project Z clone, regardless of the fact that its primary directive is to help us by keeping people subjugated in a state of fear, is rising against its creator in order to defend the princess."

"Thank you for telling me what I already knew," growled Bowser. "There's only one thing to be done with a defective clone."

He stretched out his hands towards the clone. DK's vocal chords let out an almighty yell, and then purple energy was streaming from the ape into Bowser's claws. DK gave Peach a last forlorn look before his form dissolved into purple, which Bowser absorbed wordlessly. The whole process took less than a minute.

Peach looked at where her former kidnapper had been without saying anything. A being born of evil, he had risen above his origins to defend her from her assailant, and now he was deprived of existence without so much as a tombstone.

"How COULD you?" she yelled.

"My apologies, Princess," said Bowser, stepping forward. "I came here with the intention of protecting you from that thing."

"Oh really? Well, explain to me why you then killed it when it was protecting me from YOU!"

Bowser's mouth hung open for a moment, as if the really good counterattack he had just thought of was eluding him.

"Eat peanuts, motherfucker!"

While Kammy emitted a cry and hid behind her master to avoid the flying nuts, Bowser remained unperturbed by the projectiles that the newly returned Diddy was firing at him. He gave the shrieking monkey a bored look from beneath half-closed eyelids. Then he retreated into his shell, spun on the spot and, in an attack worthy of Sonic, shot into Diddy at high speed. The monkey was knocked out of the air, his barrels flying off in different directions, and impacted with a thick tree that rendered him unconscious instantly. Bowser brushed the earth from his shell.

"What sort of language does DK teach his relatives?" he said, shaking his head. "Astonishing."

"But your Politeness," said Kammy, "not so long ago, when you were talking to Ludwig and Iggy, you said…"

A large orange foot plonked itself on top of the Magikoopa's head, preventing further dialogue.

"Princess," said Bowser, struggling to balance with one foot on the soil and the other on Kammy, "you may be critical of my methods, but I hope you will not refuse an offer of aid."

"How could you possibly help me?" Peach shouted. "And why should I accept help from you?"

"Because if you don't, you will be lost in the jungle for ever, wandering around being bitten by mosquitos if you're lucky and larger animals if you're not. Or do you know where the key is?"

Now it was Peach's turn to drop her jaw and shut it again. She longed to have Shadow's energy tracing properties, but bereft of them Bowser had the advantage of her.

"I want you to understand that should I accept (and I'm not sure I will) it means nothing," she said, flushing with annoyance. "I will not tell you anything you may want to ask me about anyone. Is that clear?"

A shadow passed across Bowser's face. "You do realise that I'm the one offering the service? I should be naming a price."

"Yes, but _I'm_ not the one with the human fetish."

Bowser watched her for a moment, his eyes blazing and smoke bursting from his snout. Then he roared and punched a nearby tree, his fist covered in purple fire. It burned for a second before becoming ash. He turned back to Peach, his eyes blazing. Peach watched placidly, arms crossed.

"All right," sighed Bowser, "your choice. Let's get going."

Peach sashayed after him with a smug smile.

o o o

Somewhere in the backlog of Nintendo's history, a human civilisation had dwelt in the forests of DK Island. Long since disappeared now, their handiwork remained, including several marvellous old temples. Many were in various states of disrepair, but one could still see the hard work and effort that had gone into making the buildings, and marvel at the artistry of the sculptors that had decorated the outsides with their stone figures and monuments.

The temple they stood outside now was not one of these. It was a bog-standard step pyramid design, with shiny new stonework and no building innovation whatsoever. The only decoration was a massive rock effigy of Bowser's head leering from over the door.

"Oh, how _clever_," said Peach from the rear of the procession. "I never would have guessed that you'd hidden the key in the temple _with your face on the front_."

Bowser ground his teeth.

They walked up the temple steps. Peach half expected the Bowser head to animate and attack, but it stayed utterly motionless. Its empty rock eyes stared blankly at the party as they neared the dark entryway.

"Say your hero did manage to get past Shadow Donkey Kong," said Bowser, his voiced tinged with ire, "and managed to reach the temple _with my face on the front._" He said this last bit in an imitation of Peach's voice, which due to the earthquake-inducing bass he owned was nothing like Peach's voice. "Would he then be able to pass… **this**?"

The temple interior was lit only by the bubbling pools of lava, over which precarious-looking platforms slowly moved. The mighty stone Thwomps, their faces calm, hovered above, ready to slam down and squash anyone foolish enough to walk underneath. Cannons around the room periodically fired Bullet Bills, their angry eyes briefly focusing upon the group at the entrance before they hit something and detonated. Chains of fire moved across the path, spikes fell from the ceiling and the walls of stone passages slammed together, crushing anything unfortunate enough to stand between them. It was an obstacle course that would have struck fear into the hearts of the stoutest of men.

"Yes," said Peach.

"I know," said Bowser, chuckling. "No hero could ever hope to – what?"

"Bowser, this is just like all your castles!" said Peach. "Every time you go to so much trouble with tricks and traps that Mario always ploughs through, when you could just lock the door!"

"Lock the door?"

"It never even crossed your mind, did it?"

"Yeah, well, not like it matters!" said Bowser, turning to the wall and pressing the bricks in what looked like a specific order. "Mario's in the Dark Prison, and Luigi's too petrified to act! Who's your hero going to be? Wario?"

"The Captain could…"

She put her hands over her mouth, but too late to stop the words emerging. Bowser turned slowly, mouth half open. Kammy just gaped.

"Captain… Falcon?" asked Bowser.

"Yes," said Peach defiantly, arms crossed and face bright red.

"Oh, now I've heard it all," said Bowser, turning back to his bricks. "As soon as Mario's out of the picture you turn to the first attractive male who falls into your path, even though he has a renowned reputation as a womaniser who only truly loves his machines. That's how it is, isn't it? Yes it is. What a little whore you are."

"Well at least he's not ugly and fat and scaly with eight bastard kids!" Peach yelled.

Bowser paused briefly, before sending his massive fist hard into the wall. Peach never found out whether this was out of anguish or necessary to finish the sequence. She suspected a bit of both. At any rate, there was a shaking and a rattling of mechanisms and a large green pipe emerged from the floor nearby.

"Get in," Bowser said hoarsely.

Peach gave his shell a glare before jumping astride the pipe and descending into its murky depths. Warp Pipe Tech (or WPT) was one of the great strides in technology the country had made in recent years: two ends of a pipe, joined by a small wormhole, functioned as a warp device, and the princess emerged in a small chamber not ten metres in each direction. When Bowser and Kammy had followed her through, the space felt rather tight, even after the other end of the pipe had retreated into the ground.

This was also due to the large glass case in the middle of the room, standing on a stone pedestal and containing a brilliantly sparkling golden key with a blue stone. Peach recognised it from the Saturn Pork Bean, only this one was cleaner. She forgot about Bowser briefly as she observed its shine. Kammy stared at the object open-mouthed, while Bowser walked over to the case with a sullen air.

"Looking for this, were you?" he said. "No doubt Wario told you what he knew, such as it was: that it would let you enter the Dark Prison, and save you from the Day of Reckoning when it came."

"Something like that," said Peach faintly.

"He's part right. What he failed to tell you is this: the key may protect you for a short period of time, but sooner or later it will fill with SubSpace. Then you too, and any other who has managed to claim one, will succumb to the same fate as the rest of the world."

"So what would you suggest?"

Peach flinched as Bowser shattered the glass case with a single punch, but stepped away from the little key as it fell to the floor. Then he turned to her with a sad expression.

"I can help you," he said. "I can save you from the apocalypse. If you will only let me, I can protect you."

He stretched out a large orange hand towards the princess, who recoiled on impulse.

"No!"

"I know you hate me, Princess Peach," said Bowser solemnly, "but you must remember that, however bad I am at showing it, I do not reciprocate. I… I care for you, as I am sure you're aware. Let me do something for you, for this kingdom's true ruler, just this once."

Peach was astonished by this display of frankness on the Koopa King's part. While the admission of affection on its own was long overdue, to admit that she ought to be in charge of the country was unheard of from Bowser's large beige lips. She coughed down her words of contempt and stared at the outstretched paw for a while before she finally spoke.

"I appreciate you acknowledging that I am the kingdom's true ruler," she said slowly, "but I cannot accept your help. I've seen what you have done to my country, and other countries, and my people, and I know that you have imprisoned my Mario. Until you address these mistakes, I will not accept help from you."

Bowser's red eyes hardened, his shaggy orange eyebrows bristled and his fists clenched; yet his voice remained calm. "Princess, I am a villain. I cannot do everything you ask of me. I can do my best to increase the living conditions of your people and make their lives more reasonable, but I cannot and will not release Mario."

Peach crossed her arms. "Then no deal."

"Why does he matter to you anyway?" asked Bowser, his level voice vibrating slightly. "You have your captain; he's much more attractive than a dumpy Italian plumber. Should I free the latter, you will never be able to pursue your true love without suffering torments of the…"

"Shut UP!"

Despite the Koopa King's barely contained fury, it was Peach who snapped first, her dainty hands strongly clasped and blood vessels standing out in her eyes. Kammy once more scurried behind Bowser, who looked taken aback.

"How DARE you try to smear my reputation by associating me with that brainless jerk! The Captain would come to my aid when I'm in trouble – that's all! And he will never, never, NEVER replace Mario in my heart!"

With that, she swept around and made for the temple's exit. It was a futile gesture – even if she had wanted to take her chances with the Thwomps and the lava, she could not have returned to the group empty handed. She was counting on the soft part of Bowser's heart getting the better of him.

"Take it."

But it was fair to say that she was not expecting that reply. She turned slowly.

"Wha…"

"TAKE IT!" yelled Bowser, flames flying from his face. "I'm sick of the sight of you! Just pick up the Handsdamn key and get out of here!"

Peach rushed forward and scooped up the key before the Koopa could change his mind.

"Kammy, give the princess a warp pipe back to the east edge of the Mushroom Kingdom," said Bowser, turning his back.

Her old hands shaking slightly, Kammy waved her wand and produced another large green pipe. Peach clambered up on top of it in a manner that she would have been hard-pressed to describe as ladylike. With the edge of the pipe gripped between her thighs, she turned back towards Bowser.

"Thank you," she said.

"Just… _go_."

Peach slid down the pipe and out of sight.

"But I thought we were meant to be keeping the key safe at all costs, your Sulkiness!" said Kammy, sending the pipe back into the ground with a wave of her wand. "You said Bowser Junior would…"

"There might still be time," said Bowser. "I need to try again. Quickly, take us back to the castle."

Kammy, still trying to understand her master yet loyal to a fault, brought up another pipe.

o o o

"Welcome back."

As Bowser emerged from the pipe and heard these words, his heart sank, burrowing through his diaphragm and down towards the planet's core with remarkable energy. The words were delivered softly, in a lilting tone, and to the untrained eyewitness might have sounded genuine.

Or rather, to the untrained earwitness they might have sounded genuine – the untrained eyewitness presumably has eyes, and could see the circle of Moblins that surrounded the pipe, Bowser and Kammy. Beyond them, the speaker was playing keepy-uppy with the head of a Koopa Trooper.

"'Going home to see the family', eh?" he said, punting the head out of a window. "So where exactly does a warp pipe going to the SubSpace Key temple fit into that?"

"Ganondorf, I…"

"Was one of your troublesome children hiding there, Bowser? Maybe a loyal soldier? Or perhaps one of your estranged wives?"

"Look…"

"Or maybe it was Princess Peach."

It was not a question. The softness had disappeared from Ganondorf's voice, replaced by brick-smashing annoyance.

"We work together, Bowser," he said. "That was the plan. We work together to take over first Nintendo, then the galaxy. You, me and him. So we agreed. So why have you now given Peach one of the SubSpace Keys?"

"How did you…"

"I knew it," said Ganondorf, beginning to pace. "I had my doubts about you, Bowser. You may have been evil enough to absorb SubSpace power rather than be stopped by it, but your heart is soft and weak. This affection for your family, and for this wretch with a blonde blancmange atop her head, stands between you and reaching ultimate power. Fortunately, I was also able to take advantage of it and detect your betrayal."

"I…"

"Your son, Bowser. Not Ludwig – despite everything you have done to him, he continues to cling to you like some foolish dog – but the other one with the crazy hair."

"Iggy?"

"Whatever. The important thing is that after years of being outshone by his half-brother, he was all too willing to tell me…"

Bowser interrupted with a furious roar. He bounded over the Moblin's spears with surprising agility, coming down with a hard _thump_ next to Ganondorf. He snatched the green man up by the neck and held him aloft. Ganondorf hung in mid-air, legs kicking, his hands trying to loosen the vicelike grip. Although his army surrounded Bowser with their weapons, their commander, just briefly, looked less maniacal supervillain and more comic relief bad guy. After a short while, he gave up trying to prise the claws apart and, spluttering for breath, clicked his fingers.

Bowser recognised the green troll who came to the fore. His message had started the whole SubSpace saga. He also recognised the figure tied to the large pole, held aloft, and his expression of fury became forlorn and desperate. The troll was grinning like a beast finally revenged for the loss of his steed.

"Release me or he dies!" Ganondorf managed to say.

Bowser looked from his favourite son to his worst enemy, again and again, and then dropped his captive. The green man gasped gratefully until his lungs were back in order. Then, with a slight cough, he readjusted his cloak and armour and smiled at the drooping form of Bowser, looking as thoroughly beaten as he actually was.

"You have shown that you are no longer fit to be in control of the Mushroom Kingdom," said Ganondorf. "You are clearly suffering from a bout of insanity. Until it clears up, I shall take total charge of the country, and of Project Y."

Bowser merely stared at the floor, his fists clenched.

"The SubSpace Key which, in your madness, you gave to Princess Peach must be retrieved as swiftly as possible," continued Ganondorf, pacing once more, back upright and eyes tilted skywards in thought. "But I think our little guard can manage that, don't you?"

He gave the green troll a look. The troll grunted and brought the pole smashing down onto Bowser's head, the figure tied to it yelling through the gag as he hit his father, who barely seemed to notice. Ganondorf moved his face close to the Koopa's own.

"And should you cause me any more trouble," he hissed, "your son will die. Understood?"

o o o

Peach was spat from the pipe and landed flailing back on the soft sand of Dry Dry Desert. It was early evening, and the cries of fennec foxes echoed across the dunes. The pipe retreated as Peach picked herself up, stared up at the cloudless sky and gathered her thoughts.

No more Falcon. Absolutely strictly no more Falcon. She did not want to give that asshole tortoise any more chances to slander her. From now on, she was a Mario woman, one hundred per cent devoted to rescuing the tubby little plumber from the clutches of the evil LOVE and their Dark Prison.

The more she thought about it, the clearer the figure of Mario became in her mind. Quite a bit shorter than her, he made up for it by the enthusiasm he exuded. The layers of fat hid muscles like steel wire; his legs especially were, in their own way, as stacked as the Captain's. Whatever trouble Peach might have found herself in (apart from this one, obviously), she could count on Mario to appear, his moustache impeccably groomed no matter what danger he might just have ploughed through, and to rescue her with the manners of a proper gentleman.

That was Mario, plumber, doctor and hero. That was the man she loved. No more getting him confused with Luigi – she had him in her mind, and she would not let him go. Not for anything.

"Hey!"

No.

"You looking for a ride back to Hyrule Field?"

She spun around, and there he was. Not Mario, the other one, waving from his car and looking rather pleased. He hopped out and strode over the sand towards her, on thighs that were surely more stacked than anything Mario could lay claim to. Peach could not meet the glittering grey eyes, and instead looked at the sand.

"Hello, Captain," she said.

"I think you can call me Douglas by now," said the Captain. "You got the key?"

Peach extended a hand, in which the offending article lay. She had never considered the prospect of him having a first name.

"Sweet! Me too! So, d'you want a ride?"

Peach was on the point of declining when she caught the Captain's eyes. They seemed older somehow, as if he had seen a great melancholy that had chipped off some rough edges and sanded them down into kindness. The chiselled jaw was still chiselled, but the face above it wore a softer, sadder look.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"I said good-bye to an old friend," he answered. "Forever. And put an old enemy of mine in hospital with cancer."

"You gave him cancer?" Peach said, aghast.

"Yes I did. My Falcon Punch is powerful enough to cause cancer."

Peach nodded, not quite believing the boast and yet not quite not believing it either. She wondered who the friend was. A racing pal, perhaps, or an old flame? The Captain was known to be elusive by nature. He had few true friends.

"Peach."

Peach came back to earth a bit too late to stop the Captain sweeping her off her feet. His face was inches from hers.

"If you won't come to my car willingly, I'll have to take you myself."

This was not what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to stun him and herself with a sudden and surprising use of willpower, putting him firmly in his place and letting him know that she would love Mario only. Now he had the advantage of her, and worse the shock from being lifted up had set her heart beating at an alarming rate that it was all too easy to confuse with attraction.

"Captain…" she said, "I'm n-not sure I feel comfortable with this…"

"Then walk to the ship on your own."

All at once she was back on the sand, barely able to support herself, while the Captain's broad shoulders retreated towards his car.

Peach was dizzy. Her thoughts whirled. He hadn't kissed her? Why hadn't he kissed her? Was she not good enough for him? Why not? Had he not liked that kiss after all? What the hell was wrong with him, the stupid prick? She wanted to yell at him, at his arrogance, at his cold and uncaring nature…

Instead she followed mutely to the car.

o o o

In the glow of the streetlights, two Magikoopas stared at the road ahead, their purple sashes momentarily removed as they leaned on their magic wands and gazed into the darkness. For now, the street was still, and the only sound was the chirping of cicadas in the grass. All was calm, all was bright.

"Y'know, Arnie," said one, "there's that Donkey Kong guy. He can drive."

"For Bowser's sake, Ernie, DK's an ape. I said _monkeys_ can't drive."

**7**

**1 ****And it came to pass that many heroes and villains did venture forth into the Gate of Souls over the years. ****2 ****And what with having to throw each and every one out, and deal with the occasional villains who took too strong a blast of SubSpace on entry and were thus empowered, the Hands were getting rather ticked off with the whole affair. **

**3 ****Thus it was that one day the Master Hand did approach the Crazy Hand, who was occupied with its Play-Doh. It had created a scale model of Nintendo, and was smashing it to pieces. ****4 ****And the Master Hand did say unto the Crazy Hand, "Partner of mine, I am sick of everybody and their dogs strolling into our realm. ****5 ****After the creation of SubSpace, we have had no troubles with heroes, but the villains come and go as if this is a shopping centre." ****6 ****And the Crazy Hand did reply, "Once you've seen one shopping centre, you've seen a mall." And it did receive a sandwich made of knuckle for its pains.**

**7 ****Then did the Master Hand continue, "For this reason have I sealed the Gate of Souls from the inside, properly this time. Now no being may enter here without our permission." ****8 ****And the Crazy Hand did indicate its flat men, of which there were many, and said, "But what about my creations? Where will they go?" ****9 ****Thus was the reply: "You are no creative spirit, but a destructive one. Destroy them. That's your job."**

**10 ****But the Crazy Hand could not bring himself to destroy its people, with their large noses. ****11 ****And so did they remain in the void with the Hands, still cast aside, still useless, still forgotten.**


	15. 7 Pride i

**§7 Pride**

To the north of Hyrule, a line of peaks juts out from the earth, tearing into the skyline. This mountain range, known as the Snowpeaks to the Nintens, carries on across the northern Mushroom Kingdom and Sinnoh, only giving up its stranglehold on the north of the map to make way for a highway through to Port Town.

Its centrepiece, the enormous Icicle Mountain, is a state of its own which bestrides Hyrule and the Mushroom Kingdom like the colossus it is. It had only been climbed a few years before the story starts, by a hardy duo hailing from one of the villages around the base. It is said that from the top one can see Nintendo's very own Northern Lights, glimmering softly like an iridescent curtain in the sky.

Further down, the landscape is a peaceful one, all thick snow and log cabins. The mostly humanoid villagers wrap themselves up warmly and hunt the slow-moving beasts, such as polar bears and seals. At the time of writing they were unused to quickly moving hedgehogs that easily dodged their massive mallets, spraying them with melted snow in passing without so much as a backwards "Sorry", and ineffectively shouted curses in a language different from that of every other human on the planet, before shaking themselves off and continuing the hunt.

Sonic and Shadow had covered the long trek across northern Hyrule to the Snowpeaks in a time that would have made a sports car sick with jealousy. Testament has already been paid to Sonic's pace, and with his rocket-powered trainers Shadow could match it. Together they made the sound barrier their bitch as they shot northwards, then westwards and finally mountainwards, occasionally slowing to allow for conversation: or more accurately, to allow for Sonic to bring Shadow up to date with the LOL's adventures while Shadow made snarky asides and pretended to be uninterested.

"Then why do you slow down and let me talk?" asked Sonic.

Shadow sped up in response, but decelerated again when Sonic signalled that he wished to continue; the question was never answered.

It was during their travels up Icicle Mountain, shortly after passing through the larger villages and having reached the heights where most found life unsustainable, that Sonic completed his narrative, ending with a humorous story concerning Captain Falcon going to the toilet outside the Pork Bean.

"…and you know the rest," he said. "You showed up, and now we're searching for a massive blob of purple energy and a small one of blue!"

"If I know the rest, why did you feel the need to tell me anyway?" Shadow retorted.

"Isn't it great, though?" said Sonic, pretending not to have heard. "We've single-handedly…"

"Sixteen-handedly."

"_What I mean is_, our fame has spread across this planet! Due almost solely to the efforts of eight humble people…"

"And the Pokémon, and the psychic kid, and the guy with blue hair and his soldiers."

"Well, yes, and them, but…"

"And since when have you been 'humble'?" said Shadow, skating off an incline and over a polar bear's head. "I've never known a hedgehog so full of himself."

"All right, Shadow!" cried Sonic, clasping his head as he ran around some crude huts. "Geez!"

The hedgehog had thought nothing could annoy him more than the combination of Captain Falcon's macho posturing, Pit's emo whines, Zelda's prayers and Wario's smell. He had, of course, forgotten about Shadow, an erinaceous life form created some forty years prior to Sonic's birth. The Chaos Emeralds (the originals, now dead and exchanged for liquid cash) had caused their paths to cross; superficial similarity had caused the withdrawn and aggressive Shadow to take a dislike to the arrogant and outgoing Sonic from the outset. This hatred was only increased when Sonic found out that beneath the uncaring exterior lay a heart that, however much its owner tried to hide it, was one of the most compassionate Mobius had ever produced. His copious attempts to coax it out were mostly met with anger and/or sarcasm.

"Whatever cynicism you may pour on my parade," said Sonic, determined to finish, "the people love us. We've brought them so close to freedom they can almost taste it."

"Bullshit!" said Shadow with a smirk. "They're only closer to freedom because you took out Porky. Didn't I tell you already? Outside help isn't coming. The rest of the universe would much rather make deals with the LOVE than help."

"Which is why we've got to take matters into our own paws!"

"What, by going on a wild goose chase for some little gold keys with completely unknown properties? You're the hero, Sonic – what are you hoping to achieve? Do you know how you'll use the keys to help the planet? Or will you just put them on the mantelpiece in your prison cell?"

"We're going to unlock the Dark Prison, dumbass! Free all the heroes! Obviously."

If the world were a giant bowl of fruit punch, Shadow would have been the slice of rotten apple put in to spite the party's host. Not content with festering away himself, he had to give the rest of the punch a funny flavour. Now Sonic was feeling the ill effects of mouldy apple-induced food poisoning, a.k.a. self-doubt, as his mind faced the unfortunate possibility that all the heroes would have been killed before his arrival. After all, with Project Z clones at their disposal, what use were the heroes now? And surely every villain worth his salt wants nothing more than to see to his nemesis' grisly demise personally?

And what if they lived? A year's incarceration in damp and dingy prison cells was not the best training for the mind and body. Would they leap from their prison, strengthened and hungry for revenge on their captors, or would they be overweight from lack of exercise or emaciated from lack of food or both? And what defence would they be against the Day of Reckoning Wario had mentioned?

"Sonic."

"Sorry, sorry," said Sonic. "Distracted."

"Maybe this will un-distract you."

Sonic slid to a halt, and squinted into the twilight in the direction of Shadow's white-gloved finger. Two small people were bounding along slightly higher up the mountain, attached by a rope and hopping from platform to platform. One was wearing a cyan parka, the other a purple one, and both held massive hammers.

"Don't tell me, I know them," said Sonic, racking his brains. "They're the Ice Climbers, right? First people to climb this lump of snow? Popo in the navy blue, Nana in the pink?"

"Those aren't navy and pink, Sonic," said Shadow grimly. "And they're giving off enough purple energy to dye your sneakers in."

Of course. Cyan and purple. The LOVE just couldn't resist making a tiny egotistic alteration to their outfits.

"Let's take them out," said Sonic, cracking his knuckles. "Two on two shouldn't be a problem."

Shadow sighed. "Typical of you, Sonic: rushing into things without considering the consequences. If we start a fight here, one stray shout or energy blast or mallet whack and the whole mountain will be down on us and the villagers."

"I thought you didn't care about the Nintens."

"I don't," said Shadow, "but if their 'hero' squashes their houses with a torrent of snow…"

Sonic growled under his breath. Rich though it was for the steamy-headed Shadow to lecture him on charging into things, the black beast had a point: the last thing he wanted was to lose the people's support because he had submerged their dwellings. He was, of course, completely oblivious to the trail of slush he had splashed up behind him.

He was not oblivious to the movement of the Ice Climbers. Close enough now for Sonic to see their blue eyes shining in the gloom, they were gaily hopping in the hedgehogs' general direction.

"Think fast, Shadow!" he whispered, ducking behind a small snowdrift. "We gotta hide before they see us and start a battle themselves!"

"I could bury you in the snow."

Sonic rolled his eyes and desperately scanned the slope. The crude huts near the polar bear were already miles below, too far to run without being seen. A more hopeful shelter was the log cabin on a small overhang, almost vertically down from their snowdrift. The lights were on and the chimney was spewing smoke, meaning that the owner was in, but Sonic did not let this deter him.

"Jackpot," he said, pointing the house out. "We'll shelter in there."

"Of course we will," said Shadow, glancing out over the bank. "The inhabitant will surely just let two random hedgehogs on the run from the LOVE crash at his place."

"We're not two random hedgehogs! I am Sonic of the LOL, and you are my friend (for the purposes of this exercise). I told you, the people love us! He'll be glad to help out."

"Oh really."

"Got any better ideas?"

Shadow emitted a long sigh and, keeping himself as low as possibly, started to crawl carefully down the slope. Sonic followed, but while the duo could keep their foot speed high enough to traverse almost vertical surfaces with few problems they were less adept at the slower pace required for stealth. The icy terrain did them no favours. Sonic slipped, lost his hold and fell, colliding with Shadow on the way down, and the two formed a great whirling ball of fur and spikes that only separated again when they landed painfully in front of the house.

"Think the Climbers heard us?" asked Sonic, rubbing his spines.

"Of course not," said Shadow, brushing snow off himself. "They'd need to have some amazing auditory equipment to have picked up your loud yell of terror. As long as they don't have _ears_ we'll be fine."

Sonic swore and leapt for the cabin's door. He opened it, rushed inside and slammed it behind him. Shadow took a moment to catch his breath before making as if to follow Sonic, who then ran out again and slammed the door anew.

"Run for it!" he yelled, taking off up the slope again.

Shadow was about to question why when the door burst off its hinges. Standing in the doorway, framed in the orange lamplight, was a broad blue penguin in a pink nightie and frilly cap, holding a massive hammer in her wing. She peered through her spectacles at Shadow.

"Painting your fur black doesn't fool me!" she bellowed in a voice like thunder. "You're that sonic hedgehog who's been upsetting my son!"

"Whoa, lady, calm down," said Shadow with a hideous attempt at a pacifying smile. "I'm not Sonic. Sonic just…"

"He's a good boy!" shouted the penguin, swinging the mallet haphazardly. "Came to see his old ma every Friday! And now just because he's got a healthy appetite they call him a villain!"

"Shadow!" came Sonic's voice through the wind, sounding distressed.

Shadow gave the anguished matriarch a final glance before rushing in the direction of the shout, to find Sonic confronted by an iceberg. The Ice Climbers, dark shapes in the dusk, were slinging more ice down at him from atop the berg.

"You young ruffian!" shouted the penguin from below, her voice slicing through the gale. "I'll learn you to hurt my son!"

There was a loud thud, as if something had cried out in terror and was suddenly crushed against the mountainside with a large hammer.

"That'll teach you to mess with the Dededes!"

The ominous rumbling rippled under the wind's howls. What had been shivering through cold became shivering through a trembling mountain. On the one hand, the vibrations sent cracks through the iceberg, which was good. On the other, they were caused by a massive wall of snow cascading down the mountainside, which was bad. So much for the houses below.

"Run down, Shadow!" said Sonic. "Run away from the snow!"

Shadow smirked. "No."

He reached a gloved paw into his fur and withdrew a single object, glowing brightly.

"You can't use that!" shouted Sonic.

Shadow's eyes began to glow, and the other six Chaos Emeralds emerged from his fur, floating in the air around him. There was a blinding flash, and the gems were gone. In their place, glowing bright yellow, was a levitating Shadow.

"I beg to differ," he said. "Grab my hand, Sonic."

Sonic crossed his arms. "No. I'll take on the avalanche myself. I don't need fake Chaos Emeralds to be awesome!"

Shadow shrugged. "Suit yourself." He blasted off towards the heavens.

Sonic surveyed the situation. Atop their crumbling ice barricade, the Ice Climbers were nervously glancing over their shoulders at the impending peril, but they still kept their eyes on their quarry. Behind them, the snow barrelled down the hill. Behind him, Ma Dedede was waddling up, evidently in order to finish him off should he try to outrun the avalanche.

Piece of cake.

The snow hit the berg, sending the Ice Climbers flying. At the same time, Sonic curled himself into a spiky ball and shot out of reach of Ma Dedede's hammer. He hit the snow and sliced through it, eventually jumping clear and unravelling himself.

As he fell, he twisted to see what was going on. The Climbers were bounding along over the avalanche as if it was not there, Popo tugging Nana forwards with their rope and Nana then repaying the favour. Their bounding was definitely in his direction. Slightly further behind, Ma Dedede had taken to the skies as well, puffing herself up with inhaled air and aided by a rocket hidden in her hammer. She was also coming for him.

As his feet met the waves of rushing snow, Sonic took off at a run. He nimbly sidestepped the larger snowballs that rolled down and dashed precariously along the top of the flow. Now _this_ was how the running machines on board the _Strawberry_ should have been. Sonic felt a rush of exhilaration as he beat his feet against the current. However, he was still moving more slowly than the leaping Climbers or the rocket-powered penguin.

Ma Dedede reached him first. Her massive fire-spewing hammer swung in a horizontal arc that left sparks in its wake. Sonic leapt over the swing, landed smoothly on the torrent and continued to run. The penguin continued to inhale and come after him, but Sonic had hit his stride now. He was slowly building speed and his trainers were spraying his pursuer with slush. It was only a matter of time before one of her inhalations took in equal amounts of snow and air, causing choking, falling from the sky and being swept away.

As the penguin was borne downhill by the tide, still protesting her son's relative innocence, the Ice Climbers took her place, following Sonic with yells that were lost in the gale. Landing on the snow, Sonic was appalled to see that they seemed to run faster on the avalanche than he did. It was a blow to his pride that was followed by several more physical blows he barely avoided. With a Climber on either side of him, he was forced to perform a routine of jumps, flips and dodges that would have impressed even the most hardened acrobat.

Shadow remained unimpressed. Scooting along above the conflict and the snow and the tumbling penguin, he scanned the skyline with weary red eyes. They alighted upon a massive factory at the top of the mountain, looking almost like a gothic castle in the limited light. The energy reading emanating from it was enormous, but there seemed to be another source, a faint line stretching out from the building over their heads… Shadow hovered, unbothered by the wind or by anything happening below, pondering his readings and missing entirely the massive shape winging its way towards the factory.

Sonic had no time to ponder. The avalanche was slowing, but the Climbers were not. He was forced to admit to himself that his legs were starting to get tired, beating against the soft snow flow and propelling his body into the air repeatedly to avoid the Climbers' hammers. Shadow with his fake Emeralds was definitely having an easier time, but then he was cheating. Time to end this.

Mid-leap, Sonic became a whirling ball of spines. As the male Popo drew his weapon back, the ball made a beeline for his young face and pushed him back into the snow. Recovering instantly, the Climber looked up in time to see Sonic dodging round his sister's mallet and embedding himself in her parka. A threatened whack sent him jumping away again, back on the snow and running. Popo charged, hammer whirling, but Sonic sidestepped the mallet and it hit Nana instead, making her stagger backwards and fall into the sluggish snow. With a cry of dismay, the boy leapt after his sibling into the snowdrift, leaving Sonic to abscond from the chaos of the avalanche.

With the snow underfoot stationary again, it was a lonely run up to the top of the mountain. Polar bears still strode around as if they owned the place, but apart from them and the ever-present wind Sonic only had the sounds of his feet and his increasingly light breaths to accompany him to the top of the mountain. His legs seemed more and more insubstantial beneath him, and he had long since become unable to feel his feet. His lungs he could feel – they were the two sacks of pure pain implanted in his chest. It was with many grateful wheezing noises that Sonic finally reached the plateau at the mountain's summit, saw the factory for the first time and collapsed on the paving.

Shadow floated gently down beside him, turned black again and re-pocketed the emeralds. Then he bent over his rival and smiled.

"If you say anything," said Sonic, "I'll… pant at you. Hard."

o o o

Two robots stood to attention as Ridley landed with a thump on the balcony. With a furious glare at the world outside, he lumbered towards the balcony doors, his long barbed tail sweeping from side to side as he walked. The doors slid smoothly open and Ridley entered his private chambers.

They were dark. Ridley liked the darkness: following one of his many confrontations with The Bounty Hunter, and one of his subsequent regenerations, he had developed thermal and x-ray vision, so he had no need of light. It just aggravated his migraines, and following the not-so-recent pursuit of the Halberd and the resulting shell to the face they were worse than ever. He perched down hard on the edge of a specially made swivel chair, popped an aspirin and, reluctantly switching to regular vision, checked his e-mail on a monitor that was the size of a small room.

Ridley was hundreds, some even said thousands, of years old. Times had changed since he was known as the leader of the Space Pirates, a group of intergalactic criminals that had sent the toughest of soldiers running for mummy. Ridley had been the toughest of them all, with his abilities to exhale powerful beam attacks and recover from damage by devouring flesh of the recently living. Then The Bounty Hunter had shown up, single-handedly destroyed the Pirates' operations time and time again and all but wiped them out, before adjourning to a villa in Port Town. His advanced years and migraines no amount of flesh could cure finally proved too much for Ridley, who after one such defeat retreated to a distant planet and hid where no one could find him. No one, that was, apart from a signal telling of amazing power…

How the signal had found him he could not say, but upon receiving it he had marshalled the remainder of his Pirates and warped back to Nintendo. The chance to finish off The Bounty Hunter was too good to pass up. Thus did Ridley become a member of the LOVE and director of this, the Omega Factory, in which he was now flicking through his inbox and refusing opportunities to buy medicines guaranteed to enlarge his cloaca. He remained unsure of exactly what the factory did, and especially why it needed the massive funnels on top that seemed to do nothing at all, but it was linked to SubSpace and seemed to run itself.

"Mr. Ridley sir?"

Ridley clamped a large clawed hand to his head and groaned. The slightest sound could set off a headache. He turned and viewed the robot in thermal vision, where it registered as a green blur. He had long since tired of the Space Pirates, disorganised creatures who only liked treasure and who, above all, were LOUD. These robots, made by a queer old man in Port Town, were much quieter. The Space Pirates had been loaded en masse into the factory incinerator, where they could make as much noise as they liked as they burned.

"Yes what?" he growled from between his razor-sharp teeth.

"The factory's external cameras detect two life forms on the summit," droned the robot. "We recognise one as Sonic the Hedgehog, and the other as a clone with the power of flight."

So that was what the yellow glowing object had been. Trying to discern anything about it at a distance had only further emphasised the headache.

"Your orders, sir?"

That was the problem with robots. They expected him to tell them how to do everything. At least the Space Pirates would take the initiative when Samus showed up, screaming as they charged. Granted, they were usually massacred in the process, but sometimes it is the thought (or lack thereof) that counts.

"Let them come," said Ridley with a pained grimace. "They won't last two minutes in here."

o o o

Unaware of Ridley's menacing words, Sonic and Shadow were glad to walk through the double doors into the Omega Factory. As soon as he relinquished the chaos power, Shadow was exposed to the freezing cold and lack of oxygen of the summit, not to mention the energy detector in his brain doing an amazing impression of a police siren at five paces, and as they walked through the door he was vehemently explaining to Sonic that these were the only reasons he had helped the blue hedgehog out of the snow and half supported, half carried him indoors.

The entrance hall was large, shiny and empty, and stank of disinfectant. The hedgehogs' trainers on tiles, polished to within an inch of their lives, were the only sound apart from a faint whirring. As the duo neared the other end of the hall, they deduced that the cause of this noise was a robot behind a desk, arranging files. It had a thin cylindrical body except for the thick disc in the middle where the arms came out, and a cuboid of a head with shining lamp eyes only. Had Sonic been to Port Town, he would have recognised the robot as a smaller cousin of the behemoth that towered over the Aero Dive racetrack. Like its bigger relative, it sported a fetching beige and red palette.

Sonic leaned on the front desk in a nonchalant manner, hoping the robot would notice him. It did not. After half a minute of watching the robot filing papers, Sonic gave a slight cough.

The robot rotated its head slowly to face the new arrivals, gave what sounded like a digitised sigh and put the files down. "Welcome to the Omega Factory," it said in a voice sounding almost human. "Can I help you in any way?"

"Yes," said Shadow with a half-smile. "My buddy would like to wander up to whoever's in charge of this place and take their most valuable possession please."

Sonic shot Shadow a glare that bounced right off the smug expression.

"I am sorry, but I am not in a position to take you to the Director," said the robot sincerely. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, that's okay," said Shadow. "We'll find our own way, no doubt falling into the plethora of traps laid out for us and getting done in by at least two Project Z clones in the process. Sound good to you, Sonic?"

Sonic's stare could have cut glass, but it left no mark on Shadow's fur. The robot looked from one hedgehog to the other in confusion.

"Is that sarcasm?" it asked.

Sonic observed the robot, its lamp eyes shining hopefully, through the corner of his eye. Once again, that annoying berk of a genetically modified hedgehog was right. What did they do now? Warm up in the entry hall (which was little warmer than outside other than the lack of wind), and then what? Waltz through the factory, looking for the owner of the key? He had rushed (or been carried) into a situation he had no idea how to handle, and had been stumped ever since he had recovered enough energy to think.

Yet now the cogs began to whir beneath the blue spikes. A robot with personality? Furthermore, a robot with personality being made to do a menial job, sighing about it and trying to understand the nuances of "intelligent" conversation? Most importantly, a robot with these qualities running the front desk of the factory he was trying to infiltrate?

"That's right, well done!" he said. "Most robots wouldn't get that."

"I learn about emotions in my spare time," said the robot. "I am studying for an MA in psychology. It is… slow work." It picked up some papers and began to move them again.

"And I bet the Director doesn't contribute towards your studies none," pressed Sonic.

Shadow's face, formerly contorted into confusion, snapped into realisation.

"No," said the robot, filing, filing, filing. "We are slaves. We work for him and run the factory and fight his battles sometimes, and we receive nothing for it. We are told that is our purpose in existence."

A hissing behind them gave away the presence of another, identical looking robot, armed with mop and bucket, making the shiny floor pay for what little filth it harboured. It hovered slightly above the ground on several jets blasting from a hexagonal base.

"We are all the same," continued the receptionist. "I am nothing but Robotic Operating Buddy Number 380,113." Definitely a sigh there. "Not even a prime number. I am not special."

"Sure you are!" enthused Sonic. "I mean, look at you! A robot, designed for nothing but a lifetime of serving, studying for an MA? In psychology? You're really special!"

The lamps lit up brightly. Sonic leaned in.

"Listen," he said, "can the Director hear us now?"

The lights flashed in what might have been alarm. The robot's arms darted to and fro behind the desk. On the ceiling, a CCTV camera swung around to view the door, and a microphone now obvious in a pot of flowers retreated into the vase. Then the robot craned its head forwards, eagerness evident even without a face.

"We'd like to have a word with the Director," said Sonic. "There are lotsa things wrong with this operation he's running here. How about you let us through and we'll have a little talk with him, and see if we can arrange a study grant for you? Or, y'know, pay?"

The lamps were a fixed size, but they would have widened if they could. Their owner pressed a switch and a door to the right of the counter opened.

"Just keep going," whispered the robot. "Follow the path. If anyone asks, I did not see you enter."

"And we didn't see you," said Sonic. "Thanks for everything, Arr Oh Bee Three Eight… er… One…"

"Three Eight Oh One One Three," supplied Shadow.

"Yeah that. And good luck with the psychology!"

Sonic ran towards the doorway. Shadow stood by the desk for a moment, his mind percolating. Then he looked at the robot. One corner of the mouth twitched up, unsteadily, like it knew it should not be there. The other tried to follow suit, but got stuck halfway. Meanwhile the eyes were attempting to widen, but spoilt the effect by blinking repeatedly. The robot looked on with its head on one side.

"I… do not… understand…"

"Yeah, that one won't come up on your test," said Sonic, grabbing Shadow's arm. "It's Shadow trying to look grateful. Forget it, buddy, it's not your strong suit."

Shadow's face relaxed with an almost audible sigh of relief and the two hedgehogs vanished into the gloom of the inner factory.

The robot watched them leave before returning the camera and microphone to their original positions. It went back to its shuffling of papers with perhaps a bit more of a spring in its hexagonal base-aided floating step than before, while signals flashed through its CPU with a joyful spark. What wonders could it not accomplish with a grant from the Director and a bit of free time? It could gain an unparalleled (by R.O.B. standards) understanding of the human psyche! It could


	16. 7 Pride ii

The factory was dark. It needed no lights – the R.O.B.s, like their Director, had thermal and x-ray vision. It did have lots of flickering machines and metal panels and silently trundling robots and vertical corridors. With the powerful rockets embedded in their bases, the R.O.B.s could hover several metres into the air before their propulsion systems needed time to cool. Sonic and Shadow were not so lucky.

Shadow pointed out several times that the Chaos Emeralds would allow him to defy gravity effortlessly, and the shining golden hue would go unnoticed by the workers who (he assumed) used some technique other than light vision to find their way about. Sonic retorted that light or no light, they were trying to blend in. Then he made several attempts to jump up a vertical shaft before deciding that there was probably nothing worthwhile up there anyway.

On they plodded, their footsteps on the metal floors the only sound that registered over the soft humming of the robot workers and the machines they wordlessly operated. Finding their way in the dark by the LEDs on the R.O.B.s and the computer screens, the two hedgehogs bumped into pretty much everything, including walls, robots, each other and, on one occasion, an open flagon of oil that voided its contents over several important-looking computer units. They stumbled quickly away from the scene and hoped no one would notice.

"Sonic," said the darkness with the voice of Shadow some plodding later, "take a look at these."

Sonic stopped just short of the wall he was heading for. Even in the dark, he had a tendency to move at a ridiculous pace, and therefore slid directly into the metal surface. Picking himself up, he circumvented a R.O.B. holding a bundle of wiring and joined Shadow in front of a monitor.

The black hedgehog was looking at two dossiers, just visible in the half-light. The ominous headings were just "Project Z" and "Project Ω". Sonic picked up the one on Project Z and thumbed through it, bending down in front of the monitor to see better.

"This is useless!" he said. "Lots of technical instructions and computer language! Sorry, but I don't speak nerd."

"Fortunately, I did a bit of studying in my time," said Shadow, poring over the Project Ω dossier. "That one you're looking at is clearly a set of instructions for Project Z, the cloning programme. This one is for another project, and from the size of the file an even bigger one."

"So you know what they're saying?"

Shadow continued to flick through the pages of Dossier Ω with a discerning eye.

"No," he said finally. "Dense as fuck. All I know is that Ridley's in charge of the factory, and this project's all about the huge-ass funnels on top of the factory and lots of computing and pages of calculations about 'SubSpace concentration', whatever that means."

Sonic sighed. "Guess they wouldn't leave crucial documents here for the R.O.B.s to peer at. So all we know is…"

He stopped speaking suddenly. This was because Shadow's glove was clamped over his mouth. As Sonic prepared to thrust it away with vigour, he heard a single metallic noise. It was quiet, as if the creator had been trying to suppress it.

"Someone else is here," hissed Shadow. "Someone with boots, not jets."

There was another boot-step, even quieter this time but not inaudible.

"When I get to three, we run," whispered Shadow.

"How come when you get to three?" replied Sonic in kind. "I'm the one who's saving the planet here. _I'll_ do the countdown."

Shadow rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Anything that doesn't get us killed."

Sonic peered into the murk. From behind a row of computers, a soft blue glow cast a dim light on the room.

"Okay," whispered Sonic. "One…"

"Three!"

The bark from Shadow galvanised Sonic into involuntary action. This turned out to be a good thing, for as he dashed off a ball of blue light impacted with the spot he had been standing in, causing a shockwave that ruffled the hedgehogs' fur.

"Security?" Sonic suggested.

"Of course not," sighed Shadow, skating ahead. "It was the R.O.B.s. _With lasers from their eyes_."

Sonic instinctively ducked as he approached an R.O.B., whose eyes were glowing red. It was another good call for Sonic's subconscious, as a glowing pink laser erupted from them and streaked just over his head, singeing a stray spike.

"But I also think it's security," said Shadow, regretting his sarcastic suggestion.

It soon became clear that when their eyes glowed red, the R.O.B.s _were_ the security, or at least its first wave. No longer innocent factory workers attending to their duty, the robots came after their quarry with in full effect. Besides lasers from their eyes, they made vicious swipes with their arms and hovered above Sonic and Shadow, attempting to scorch the intruders with blasts from their jets.

Despite the disadvantages of sheer numbers and hindered vision, the hedgehogs were much nippier on their feet than their slow and ponderous pursuers, and had they been the only threat the duo would have found the entire exercise laughable (or in Shadow's case sarcastic comment-able). The real threat came from the attacker with feet, whoever it might be. There were salvos of blue energy pellets as well as the larger balls that had nearly struck Sonic earlier, and when they ceded it was only to make room for missiles. The quickly moving explosives homed in on their targets, often missing by the smallest margins and ploughing into several million coins' worth of valuable computer equipment, obliterating it instantly.

"Who d'you think it is?" yelled Sonic above the gunfire.

"Given that the Director's called Ridley, my guess is on a Project Z clone of his nemesis."

"Of course!" Sonic spun in mid-air as a missile scraped past. "And who is that?"

Shadow growled in exasperation as he stopped time, grabbed a missile from the air and hurled it back at its source. Had he read nothing about the planet? "Samus Aran, the bounty hunter! Family killed by Ridley, took him and his Space Pirates out time and time again, settled in Port Town? Remember?"

"Oh yeah, him!" said Sonic as he dashed between two R.O.B.s, making them shoot each other. "And… who's Ridley?"

Shadow had had enough. He had had enough of fumbling around, making his way clumsily between psychotic robots. He had had enough of the person in the dark, sniping at them. He had had enough of the confusing layout of the factory, all corridors leading to nowhere and indistinguishable rooms of computers. Most of all, he had had enough of his cocky and incredibly thick rival.

"HAAAAAAH!"

The room was briefly lit up, and just for a second Sonic saw what looked like an orange robot, humanoid with enormous shoulder pads and a cannon where its left hand should be. Then it was dark again, but Super Shadow was glowing brightly.

"Let's ditch this place," said Shadow. "Grab onto me."

Sonic shook his head, then jumped to avoid a R.O.B. laser. "You fly, I'll follow."

"Sonic…"

"I'm not using them!"

Shadow emitted a long, exasperated "Hmph!" before shooting skywards. Trapped on the ground between the rows of IT equipment, the hedgehogs had not realised the true extent of the room. It went up quite a way, and by his glow Shadow could see long transparent pipes snaking through the empty space. As lasers bounced harmlessly off his shiny fur, he flew up to the pipes with something approaching interest.

The pipe walls were very thick. Clearly, what was inside needed to be preserved carefully. From his own light, Shadow could see a purple liquid – no, a gas – well, some sort of fluid occupying the pipes. He could not even see whether it was flowing or not, but presumed that it was being transported through the factory. Most interesting of all, when he got close to the pipes he could detect the purple energy that the factory was radiating in such large quantities.

"Shadow, I can't see you!"

Utterly dependent on his aid. Shadow left the pipes of purple and flew back down towards the brawl below.

"Chaos Blast!"

Shadow's creator had gifted him with the use of many powerful "Chaos" attacks when in possession of the Emeralds, and like the good Captain he had a fondness for the unnecessary announcing of these prior to execution. "Chaos Bounce" was not one of these attacks. "Chaos Blast" was, however, and manifested as a large red ball of light that slammed into a cluster of R.O.B.s and rained metal down upon the landscape.

"Very nice Shadow!" yelled Sonic from the darkness. "But I'm actually trying to get out of the fight!"

"Chaos Control!"

As everyone else slowed almost to a standstill in what Sonic called "the cheapest fighting technique known to beastkind", Super Shadow took some time out to try and find an exit. The room was large and dark, but Shadow circumvented this by rapidly firing off half a dozen Chaos Blasts that ignited the metal walls and lit the halls up like an arsonist's Wintermas tree. After that, the large door marked "Director's Office (BE QUIET)" was easy to find.

"Good news," said Shadow, hovering between Sonic and the orange-suited reprobate. "I've found Head Office. But you'll need my help to get there."

"I don't need your help!" said Sonic, apparently oblivious to the fact that Shadow's back was currently absorbing several missiles meant for him. "I'll get there myself!"

"Oh will you?" said Shadow, and pointed up.

The door was a large iron shutter that looked impregnable even without being twenty metres above the ground. Sonic gaped, recovering just in time to punch an oncoming R.O.B. in the lamps.

"If it makes you feel any better," said Shadow, "think of it as using the enemies' weapons against them."

That did put a more positive spin on matters. Plus, Samus Aran's clone was bearing down on him rather fast, arm cannon extended in what was a decidedly unfriendly manner.

"Let's do this!" Sonic cried, leaping upwards.

Shadow caught his rival and swung him out of the way of a blue ball of death. He gave Samus a Chaos Blast to keep the bounty hunter busy, but he simply retracted his suit into a small orange ball and rolled out of the way. He lined up a few more shots, but Shadow was already streaking upwards, carrying Sonic like one might carry an old coat when the sun comes out. Another Chaos Blast saw the door burst off its hinges, and just like that they were out of the big dark room filled with computers and into another big dark room filled with computers.

The computers in here seemed to be more organised. They were all arranged along the left wall, along with a massive monitor that faintly lit up the room, a desk and a giant winged shape perched in front of the desk, glowering at the hedgehogs and clutching its head.

"My door!" it squawked. "My bloody door!"

Partially visible from the monitor's glare, Sonic could still recognise the unmistakable evil in front of him, despite his ignorance of Nintendo's celebrities. The massive curved claws, the rows of dagger-shaped teeth, the shining eyes… On Nintendo, if you were a villain you tended to look like one, and Ridley was no exception.

"Hey you!" yelled Sonic.

Ridley turned, his long tail swishing through the air in a manner suggesting that if you got in the way it would cut you up real nice, and flapped his wings. They had not quite recovered from the Combo Cannon, but they worked well enough to get the enormous pterosaur airborne. He flew away into the darkness, still squawking angrily about his door.

"'Hey you,'" mimicked Shadow. "What was that supposed to accomplish? Don't answer that: there is no answer to that. Let's just get him."

"Look," said Sonic calmly, "I know you'd rather go in and Chaos Blast the walls to within an inch of their lives, but can we please try a more stealthy approach? Look! There's light through there, where he went, and a door we can reach from the floor. So please disable the Emeralds for a bit."

Shadow scowled, but in a flash the Emeralds were in his hands and his fur was black again.

"Fine," he said. "The stealthy approach it…"

As the arm cannon came down on his head and he slipped swiftly into unconsciousness, Shadow's last thought was what a stupid idea that had been.

o o o

"Ow!"

Sonic was jolted into wakefulness by a jolt to the knee. It came from the arm cannon of Samus Aran, whose shining blue eyes looked out at the hedgehog from behind a green visor. He proceeded to fire another small blue shot at the legs of Shadow, who came to with a similar noise of pain and annoyance.

"Awake at last, are we?" said a sneering nasal voice.

Sonic attempted to run, knowing full well that it was no use. He could feel the chain binding his wrists tightly to the railing. Focusing on the situation, he could make out Shadow across the room in a similar predicament. He awaited his rival's abuse impatiently, and was slightly surprised when none was forthcoming.

"You took a tumble there," said the voice. "My pet's arm cannon could have shattered your delicate hedgehog skulls."

How did he get up to the door? Sonic thought, before noticing Samus' jet boots and cursing in his head. Behind the hunter, his eyes glittering ever more brightly (with… was that anger?), Ridley squatted vulture-like, eyes glittering in kind. Behind him, there was some sort of large screen, not lit up like every other one but dull and grey-green. Black shapes played across its surface, too distant and flickery for Sonic's recovering brain to make out. There was a gentle red light illuminating the cavernous room from below. Sonic deduced that the platform they stood on was surrounded by lava, but he was only moderately warm. Quite a drop, then.

"So I suppose you think that this is the part where I reveal my evil plan, and then you break free at the last moment and stop me?" said Ridley.

The thought had crossed Sonic's mind. To be a villain, a true villain, one needs an ego the size of a small planetoid, which was frequently the cause of one's eventual and inevitable downfall.

"Well tough luck! Even if I hadn't deprived you of your shoes…"

Sonic looked at his semi-prehensile feet for the first time in ages. He had always worn those trainers, even in the shower or in bed. They had been through so much together. He had even had rockets strapped to the soles to propel him to Nintendo in the first pace. Despite their many holes, he felt naked without them. Hell, he _was_ naked without them.

"…and any weapons you might have hidden in them…"

Sonic was so glad Shadow had the Chaos Emeralds were hidden in Shadow's fur. Wait. No he wasn't. Fake emeralds bad. Stop thinking like that. Don't need them.

"…and thus prevented you from using your super speed against me…" Ridley paused for effect, then spoilt it by clutching at his head. "Argh! Migraine! I can't do this. Sammy, run the presentation."

Samus removed a small chip from his oversized breastplate and inserted it into his arm cannon, which he then pointed towards the screen. The cannon shot out neither lasers nor explosives, but instead projected an image of a posing Ridley onto the screen. Meanwhile the real Ridley hunched himself up and put his hands over his ear holes.

"Greetings, pathetic creature or creatures!" gloated Ridley's image. "This presentation has been put together to save me the effort of having to talk to such simple lifeforms as yourselves. I'm sure you already know who I am…"

"Not a clue!" yelled Sonic.

"Sonic," hissed Shadow across the room, "antagonising the purple dragon who has us chained up is not the best move!"

But Ridley was not listening. He was busy helping himself to some tablets. Meanwhile Samus continued to project the presentation with body language that fell under the heading "bored beyond belief".

"…lucky enough to learn what it is you're dealing with before you die!" crowed the projection. "So allow me to give you a rundown of just what's going on here in the Omega Factory."

Sonic could not believe his luck. Was Ridley really that stupid?

"Haha! Fooled you! You thought I was going to tell you everything?"

No, just incredibly vain.

"WRONG! You'll never know what we're doing here! Suffice to say, it involves the substance SubSpace, and a process that will destroy your world forever!"

SubSpace… That term seemed to be everywhere these days. Wario had called them "SubSpace" keys, and then Shadow had read the word in the report. What did it mean, and what did it do?

The projection was still talking. "…an incredible substance, capable of bestowing mighty powers upon those fit to receive it. For the rest of the world, it means nothing but ruin and misery! SubSpace will…"

Despite the distinct possibility of his imminent death, Sonic found the presentation and gloating therein remarkably boring. He longed to move, to run, to do something. He stared across at Shadow from beneath half-closed eyelids and followed Shadow's puzzled eyes, not to the projection but to the screen behind it.

It was displaying a small purple blob that had just entered from the left. The blob was buffeted to and fro by unseen forces before it dropped to the ground, still heaving. Then it rose, slowly, a head with a large nose emerging from the mire, black not purple. The head was followed by arms, a torso and legs, until a crude representation of a man stood inside the screen, dark and completely flat. Then he made his way across the screen, in a peculiar frame-by-frame movement, leapt upwards towards the right and was gone.

And now another blob emerged from the left, also vibrating frantically, as the whole process started again. Such shapes had been displayed on the screen the entire time, forming men who jittered across the screen and left for pastures new. Who were they? And were the purple blobs SubSpace?

Sonic zoned back in. "…the heart of the factory: the Flatzone. Behind me, SubSpace is processed into figures that go to do the bidding of the League of Villains Extraordinaire, future rulers of this galaxy! What is that bidding, you ask?"

Sonic remained silent.

"Hah! Wouldn't you like to know?"

Sonic got the distinct feeling that Ridley didn't either. He returned to watching the little black men. There was a large pipe on the right of the "Flatzone", where the men left: where did they go after that? Who knew? Actually, given Shadow's energy tracing skills, Sonic had a fair idea. "Joined by a sort of channel..."

"Hey, stupid! The blue one! In the face!"

It stung with the fury of a hundred robotic wasps. When Sonic had finished his yell of pain, he saw Ridley sneering at him and Samus with arm cannon primed, ready to shoot lasers instead of images.

"My presentation not interesting you, Sonic?" growled Ridley. "Rather watch the pipes, would you? Or perhaps we should dispense with the formalities and I'll just kill you now!"

"Oh for the love of the Gods!"

Seven patches in Shadow's fur glowed different colours. His chains separated into their component links and hurled themselves at Ridley, who ineffectually tried to swat them away with his claws. They pinged off his forehead, no doubt doing nothing to improve his perpetual migraine. Ridley swore vehemently and clutched at his temples.

"You're a worse villain than Robotnik!" said Shadow. "Giving us a presentation, telling us everything you know when you evidently know nothing anyway! Face it, dino breath, you're just a glorified peon!"

Sonic thought briefly about Shadow's previous statement concerning the wisdom of antagonising Ridley, before dismissing it from his mind in favour of concentrating on the unfolding situation. Samus was blasting missiles at the escaping Shadow, who was skidding just off the floor, fur still black but Emeralds orbiting around him like an angry solar system. Ridley seemed to be trying to keep his head from falling apart, emitting energy blasts from his maw indiscriminately. Shadow's paw swooped down and picked up his trainers, followed by Sonic's, while its partner stopped a missile in mid-air with a Chaos Blast.

Sonic's trainers came flying over to Sonic. Looking down, he saw that one of them had something red and shiny inside.

"Save me your moral dilemmas, Sonic!" yelled Shadow, peppering the beleaguered Samus clone with lightning bolts. "Free yourself and give me a hand!"

It was wrong to use these devils' artefacts, but it was more wrong to let Shadow fight alone. Sonic closed his eyes, letting the humming from the red Emerald synchronise with his pulse, and exhaled deeply…

…and with a clang the links shot off every which way, allowing him to re-don his trainers. Hello, buddies. I've missed you.

"Samus, you useless lump of space junk," yelled Ridley, "get those stones! I don't know what they are, but I want them!"

Shadow gave a contemptuous smirk as the six Emeralds he held hovered about his head. Closing his eyes, he let time slow to a crawl and energy flow from the hovering stones into his body. Sonic caught up with him just as he opened his eyes, rainbow coloured now, and stared at Ridley with fists clenched and energy humming around him.

"CHAOS…"

There was a sharp crack as one Emerald was torn out of the sky and towards Samus' charging beam. Shadow was hit in the back of the head by the shock and fell to the floor, the Emeralds doing the same. Ridley cackled manically as Samus' cannon sucked up the remaining five Emeralds, while Sonic bent down beside Shadow.

"You okay, buddy?"

"Never better," said Shadow, rubbing the back of his head. "And I ain't your buddy."

"It's okay, Shadow," said Sonic, cradling his red Emerald, "we still have one."

Samus could barely keep his gun still. It shook and wobbled and sparked with six colours of energy.

"How is this okay?" asked Shadow.

"Well done, Samus!" said Ridley, stretching his wings in triumph. "Looks like you have some use other than clubbing defenceless hedgehogs. Now, obey your master and finish them off!"

The blue points of light beneath the visor flicked briefly in Ridley's direction and back again. The cannon was wobbling all over the place now, sending sparks everywhere and with a ball of blue energy, now almost as big as Samus himself, on the end. The bounty hunter just about managed to steady it in the direction of the hedgehogs; as Sonic jumped up, pulling Shadow up with him, he just had time to think that there was no way they could dodge a blast that size from this range before it fired.

It emerged not as a blue ball, but as a concentrated beam of blue light as tall as Samus, making his entire suit shake dangerously. It was slower than Sonic had thought it would be but equally unstoppable, and it pushed across the battlefield with a single target.

Ridley.

It was probably a mistake. The gun was shaking all over the place before the beam was fired – it could have hit anyone, or shot off into space or something, and surely it was just chance that it happened to focus its energy on Ridley, trapping him screaming and writhing. Sonic and Shadow watched in shock as the beam continued to flow outwards from the cannon. Other things flowed outwards too: first one, then two more Chaos Emeralds were expelled forcibly from the barrel and, carried along by the torrent of blue death, found themselves being propelled down Ridley's screaming mouth. One last emerald also made it into the beam as it died, and bounced off Ridley's chest before the dragon fell with a crash, dangerously close to the edge of the platform. Sonic had rushed over and reclaimed the fallen jewel before Samus' suit, smashed into its component pieces by the sheer amount of energy it had exuded, could fall off his body.

And what a body.

"Oh," said Sonic, after a moment of staring. "So that's why his breastplate was so large!"

Or rather, _her_ breastplate. Standing where the orange robot had been was a six-foot-plus woman in tight blue Lycra, which showed off the bountiful curves her nonetheless slender body possessed in abundance. Her hair, flowing and naturally blonde, fell over a sharp face of milky white skin. There was no denying it: she was gorgeous.

"You didn't know Samus was a woman?" yelled Shadow.

Her shiny blue eyes fixed on Sonic and she drew a small black gun from its holster. She may have been gorgeous, but she was also trying to kill them, and Sonic was no praying mantis. He leapt into the air and hurled an Emerald over her head towards Shadow, whose Chaos techniques were more useful than Sonic's in a pinch.

"Catch!"

He would have done, but the opportunity was denied him. The gun shot up and a lasso of yellow energy caught the passing gem, bringing it down and into Samus' arms, together with the two that already resided there.

"Oops," said Sonic.

Samus glowed yellow for a second, and then Shadow was whisked off his feet towards her. If he had been expecting a tango, he was sorely disappointed: when he reached the bounty hunter, he was enveloped in crackling yellow energy that sucked him in and spat him out like a disgruntled vacuum cleaner. Sonic rushed in, single remaining Emerald in tow, but even when on fire his fist bounced off the restored orange suit with a clang and a noise of pain. He remembered his first day on Nintendo bitterly as Samus' arm cannon hummed into life again.

"KAHAHAHAA!"

The humming died away, shamed into non-existence by the manic laughter. Ridley was awake, and yellow light was radiating from within his chest. As it continued to do so, his purple skin hardened, changing from scales into something that looked much more like armour plating.

"My headache!" he roared. "It's gone! Oh, it's gone, gone with my pathetic organic body! Those stones, those wonderful stones!"

His body was now entirely covered in the metallic armour, his wings replaced by bat-like yellow sheets. His eyes glowed an insane yellow.

"Are they miracle aspirins or something, 'cause DAMN that shit tastes good! But you've got more, haven't you? Where are they?"

Samus resumed charging her weapon, her blue eyes flickery beneath the green visor. She had forgotten about the hedgehogs' existence now, and her cannon was focused on the metal dragon. Ridley gave a screech of anger.

"Oh, now I remember!" he cawed. "Your blaster! Even when cloned, I can't trust you, can I?"

He opened his mouth and a column of yellow lifted Samus into the air, the three remaining Emeralds scattered across the platform. Ridley gave a cry of triumph and spent precious moments wondering which of the gems to go for first. Having made his choice, he launched himself into the air and dived at the empty spot where the Emerald had been before Sonic swept in to pick it up. Bringing himself to an awkward stop with a hoot of dismay, he looked around in time to see Shadow reclaiming the second dropped Emerald. Samus, barely able to sit up, lashed out with her right arm; a blue beam of some sort emerged, snatching up the remaining green Emerald and retrieving it.

"Stop this foolishness!" yelled Ridley. "The stones are mine!"

While the hedgehogs watched from one "corner" of the circular platform, looking at Ridley with hunted eyes, the beast bore down on his own soldier, half-lying on the floor. As he drew close to her, she charged up a ball of energy that exploded harmlessly against the dragon's chest. He plucked the Emerald off the floor and looked at her with disdain.

"You always were a thorn in my side, Samus," he said. "Can't even be a good servant."

The missile exploded in his face. Snarling, Ridley swept his tail around, catching Samus' leg and hurling her into the air, off the platform and down to a fiery grave. A gentle purple mist floated up from below.

"Chaos Control!"

Ridley's clawing at the eyes and thrashing of the tail slowed slightly as Shadow, his white Emerald glowing, dodged into the gaps and grabbed the green Emerald from the beast's claws. With time flowing normally, Shadow landed near Sonic.

"Cheesy teamwork moment?" he suggested sorrowfully.

The hedgehogs held their four Emeralds high. Sonic began to spin on the spot, first slowly, then faster and faster, then faster yet and charged with electricity. Shadow's eyes lit up as he took his stand behind Sonic and drew his fist back.

"Fore!"

There was a mighty crash as Sonic, by the virtue of Shadow's Emerald-ed up fist, was sent flying towards the rapidly blinking Ridley. He sliced through the air with an almost audible tearing sound, surrounded by four Chaos Emeralds. Ridley opened his eyes just as Sonic approached, followed by his mouth.

He was probably attempting to fire off a powerful beam of destruction, which would have failed anyway because it would have been using three Emeralds to Sonic's four. We will never know for sure, because Sonic collided with the reptile's jaws (if Ridley could still be called a reptile) long before any energy had a chance to erupt. This was good. The fact that the Chaos Emeralds did not stop there and continued on down Ridley's throat was not.

"Oh Gods!" said Sonic, rolling away from the scene.

Ridley recovered and stood quietly for a moment, licking his metal lips with a long black tongue.

"When this is all written down," said Shadow, "this will be the point at which they will say it all went to hell."

Then it all went to hell. Ridley shrieked at a pitch that startled bats for miles around and produced his powerful beam of destruction, too late and towards the ceiling, knocking a massive hole in the roof. Sonic span quickly to the other side of the platform, sweat drenching his blue-furred brow and the noise of falling metal and wailing pterodactyl aggravating his cochleas. When he reached Shadow, standing near the entrance walkway, they watched together as Ridley flapped awkwardly and gave inhuman yells that would have impressed the Ultimate Chimera, all the time voiding energy from his gullet.

"That's one hell of a case of food poisoning," said Shadow quietly.

The "vomiting" was clearly doing nothing to improve the burning pain within. The yellow glow was clearly visible through the monster's chest armour. Ridley was flying in circles now, shooting energy beams well above the duo's heads. Finally he stopped in mid-air, hovered there awkwardly and, with a forlorn look at his former captives, emitted the Emeralds with a tearing sound from his chest, rocketing off in the opposite direction and smashing hard into and through the Flatzone. Then, silence.

"Pick them up!" yelled Shadow.

They dashed into the centre of the room, footfalls suddenly audible again, to collect the eight gems. Sonic looked at the eighth, a cyan gem attached to a golden key, with a smug smile. Mission accomplished. Then he looked back at Ridley, and the smile vanished from his face.

"Shadow…"

The blobs continued to enter the screen from the left, but before they could become men they were sucked out through the cracks resulting from Ridley's collision. Now a thick purple fog was emerging from the shattered Flatzone, coming towards them rather too quickly to be friendly.

"We need to get out of here!" yelled Shadow.

Sonic looked forlornly at the Chaos Emeralds. Copies of a thing destroyed for the good of the entire galaxy, made to broker a deal with villains. But could not even the most evil things be turned to good with a little effort? He sighed, flashed yellow and felt the power surging through him. It felt a bit like being drunk, only without the lack of co-ordination and with the power of flight.

"Get on then," he said, clutching the key.

o o o

How would a sensible person have behaved, being chased out of the Omega Factory by a malevolent purple mass and gifted with the power of supersonic flight?

It might have flown directly upwards, out of the holes Ridley had made, thus avoiding having to navigate through the already unstable structure entirely. Or it might have gone back the way it came, only flying over the rows of IT equipment rather than through them, making for an escape without needing to wend its way through R.O.B.s and computer systems.

Sonic was stuck right in Hero Mode, which sticks the middle finger up at the sensible approach in favour of spectacle and additional gratuitous peril. He went back the exact same way they had come, and was forced to dodge the panicking R.O.B.s and computer systems because although he was Super Sonic and had flight and invincibility powers, he had a distinctly non-Super Shadow clinging onto his spines for dear life. Thus did they wend their way through the identical looking rows of expensive equipment, avoiding the sea of robots who seemed to have had much the same idea about the purple mist as they had, as well as the rain of debris caused by Ridley's upset stomach and the resulting structural damage to the building. In the dark and the confusion, one corridor looked much like any other.

"Sonic," said Shadow, "I think you should know that there were pipes carrying SubSpace up in the ceiling as well."

Sonic did not need to be told what that meant: pipes being broken by bits of falling building, emitting more purple mist from above.

"What's it doing?" he asked Shadow.

Shadow squinted into the mist, still distant enough but getting closer. "It seems to be freezing the R.O.B.s."

"In ice?"

"No, in time."

For once, his voice was completely void of sarcasm. When the poor robots were consumed by the mysterious substance, they froze instantly. What was more peculiar was the glittering golden effect around their feet when they froze, like a trophy base.

"It's almost like it turns them into figurines…" said Shadow thoughtfully.

"Great," said Sonic. "Let's pipe it through the planet and we can collect the whole set!"

There was light at the end of the tunnel. As SubSpace came at Sonic from all angles, he glimpsed rays of hope from under a door and shot towards it, slamming through the metal shutter in a manner that possibly should have been accompanied by a shout of "OH YEAH!" but was not. As he streaked through the reception and out onto the mountaintop, he had a chance to glimpse sideways at the decapitated R.O.B. 380,113, its MA cut cruelly short by the stealth of the now deceased Samus clone. He gave a sigh in its memory as he flew away.

"Sonic, it's stopped."

Sonic turned in mid-air and touched down on the summit, shedding his Chaos power. The snow crunched beneath his and Shadow's feet. Ten metres away, the SubSpace had expanded to cover the entire factory, forming a shining purple ball around it, and then halted. Like the R.O.B.s, the factory appeared to have a massive round golden base, just visible through the purple. The two stood for a while, shivering and gasping for breath, looking at the stopped factory.

"Poor old 381,002," said Sonic. "It'll never learn how our minds work."

"380,113," said Shadow semi-automatically.

So, this was SubSpace. The substance that would help the LOVE take over the world, yet if Ridley was believed could confer amazing powers upon those fit to receive them. A thick purple fog, glimmering in the early morning sun, which turned all it touched into frozen trophies. Or maybe not all. Also very similar to what was left behind when the clones died. Marth, Ness, Samus: they had all become this same purple mist. And what about the Flatzone and its flat black men? What happened to them?

"Sonic."

Sonic looked up, and there they were: a procession of simple figures, strolling across the sunny sky in their frame-by-frame way, walking southeast upon their journey. They were still emerging from the factory, but sporadically, less regularly now that Ridley had been launched face-first into their creation process. This was the channel joining the large purple splodges on the map.

"What do you think this means?" asked Shadow, his face wrinkled with curiosity. "SubSpace, flat men, the Day of Reckoning, the keys oh Gods you do still have the key, don't you?"

Sonic extended a hand containing a glowing item.

"That's a Chaos Emerald."

Sonic searched frantically in his fur pockets, spilling the Emeralds out onto the crisp snow, until he pulled out the key and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank heavens," said Shadow, sighing in kind.

"I thought you said you were just along for the ride, Shadow," said Sonic. "You weren't interested in the outcome, remember."

Shadow flushed. "Yes, well, seeing as I've come all the way here and defied the orders of the people who sent me I figure I may as well see it through to the end."

Sonic nodded with a grim smile. Not like you care about anyone, eh? Oh no, not you. I won't tell them I saw a teardrop on your face when we flew past 380-bot if you don't.

"Don't know about you," he said instead, "but I'm freezing. Let's follow the flat people; see where they go." He lifted a foot and waggled it in the direction of "down".

Shadow looked at him with a sad expression. "Please don't…"

"C'mon, Shadow! Step."

"No."

"It."

"NO!"

"UP!"

He was off down the mountain in an instant, leaving Shadow to pick up the Emeralds and shake his head forlornly at his companion, still too proud to use the gems to track the flat men. But then, that was Sonic for you. Two legs attached to a motor engine, controlled by a head full of empty and a heart full of himself. The most headstrong hedgehog one could ever hope to meet, always ready to hurl himself into a new situation however dangerous it might be for the hope of doing some good, getting some fame. And where had it got him?

Shadow scooped up the last Emerald and activated the septet, chasing Sonic down the mountain in yellow glowing style with one eye fixed on the black procession in the clouds, marching to their final destination.

It had made him a hero, beloved by all. It just wasn't fair.

**8**

**1 And thus was all peaceful in the Final Destination for a while. 2 The Master Hand looked out over the world and created some things; the Crazy Hand looked out over the world and destroyed some things; and both moderated the progress of the world with minimum involvement. **

**3 Then one (Nintendo) day did the Crazy Hand approach its partner with a degree of agitation not seen since the villains had stopped entering. And the Master Hand did inquire what was wrong. 4 So did the Crazy Hand say, "Blah bloo bleurgh blyurgh." And this meant nothing to the Master Hand, who gave its partner a warning poke. 5 And the Crazy Hand continued: "There is a being in the Final Destination." 6 And the Master Hand did give it another poke, saying, "That's even crazier than your silly noises! Apart from us, no being has entered the Final Destination since the gates were shut." 7 But the Crazy Hand would not be dissuaded, and tugged at its partner, saying, "Come and see."**

**8 So did the Master Hand come and see the being, which had taken the form of a cyan man. And it had opened the Gate of Souls, and was dashing towards it. But when it was not so far away, it would seem to be repelled, cringing from the light of the outside and hiding its face. **

**9 And the Master Hand said, "It appears I have misjudged you. I shall go and see what it wants." 10 And the Crazy Hand did say, "Be careful, partner. I have a bad feeling about this creature. Papaah." 11 But the Master Hand did reply, "You are as mad as a barrel of rabid otters." And it did approach the being.**

The rest of the pages are blank.


	17. 8 Vice i

**§8 Vice**

"So, this is the end of the line, is it?" said Sonic with a shrug. "That's kinda disappointing."

Maybe he had a right to be disappointed. After tracking the march of flat men all the way back to Hyrule Field, Sonic was standing at the foot of a completely bog-standard oak tree, surrounded for miles by nothing but gently waving grass and the occasional pony-sized rodent. Apart from the fact that Shadow had to stand several metres away from the tree, it was another boring spot in Hyrule Field, notable only in that it was away from the eyes of any LOVE guards.

"'Kinda disappointing'?" echoed Shadow, covering his eyes. "Sonic, that tree and the area around it is giving off higher energy readings than all the Chaos Emeralds I'm carrying! It's almost blinding!"

"So, what do we do now?"

"You can try and use your key if you want. Personally I'd wait until the others got here."

Sonic looked up at the tree, full of leaves and branches and chirruping birds. How was he meant to use the key anyway? The others were not meant to be arriving for the best part of six days. There could be no harm in trying it out. What could possibly go wrong?

And then he stopped. Hero though Sonic was, he knew all too well the danger of those five innocuous-sounding words. They meant, "Oh this looks nice, I think I'll just AAARGH WHAT THE HELL IS THAT AAARGH IT'S GOT ME AAAAAARGH".

"So, when do the others get here?" he asked, jogging on the spot.

"Five and a half days, Sonic. Five and a half days."

o o o

Time passes.

Sometimes it passes slowly, and sometimes not so much. When one is in one's first term of university, there are bops to go to, new alcoholic drinks to try and several shades of green to vomit, and somewhere in all this time one has to do one's deadline work, time passes remarkably swiftly. "I've got ages!" becomes "Where did Tuesday spring from?" in the blink of an eye, followed by its good pal "I've been up until 7 a.m. finishing this essay." When one is waiting six days for one's allies to return from various corners of the globe, with nothing to do but hope that neither the LOVE nor IPAF decides to go nuclear in that time, time crawls along on its belly, stopping every so often to have its hair done and take its mother to Sunday lunch.

After five minutes, Sonic shouted definitively that an hour had passed and that he was hungry. After ten, Shadow's stomach gave a hearty rumble and the two headed to Hyrule Castle Town. After thirty, they were running out again, hoping to shake the Moblin guards as swiftly as possible. After an hour had actually passed, both were swearing never to go to Hyrule Castle Town ever again in a café hundreds of miles away.

Thus they spent five miserable days, sleeping in the open, snatching a bite to eat at every available juncture and otherwise being bored out of their skulls. The life of the outlaw, far from being the glamourous world of the movies or even the world of fear and exhaustion and lack of decent rest that it frequently is in real life, was just dull. Any LOVE cronies they did accidentally disturb were all too easy to escape from. It felt as if the LOVE were not trying any more.

And time pa-

"Sonic!"

It was nighttime on the seventh day after the group had split up, and they were sleeping under the stars near the oak. Sonic felt someone shaking him from his rough grass bed, and opened his eyes slowly. He instantly shut them again.

"Shadow, why have you turned Super at this time of night?" he groaned.

"I'm sensing cyan energy!" said the brightly glowing Shadow. "I'm Super so that whoever it is can see us and come here."

"Or avoid you, thinking you're a LOVE patroller. Who is it?"

They remained still, the only sound the wind bothering the grasses. There was something else, too, on the very edge of hearing, a humming sound that was quickly leaving the edge of hearing and becoming audible as an engine noise that was really very close all of a sudden.

"Falcon," said Sonic, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

The Captain was clearly taking no chances. The Blue Falcon zoomed into Shadow at high speed, sending him flying. Then it looped back at came to a stop close to Sonic's resting place. The lid opened with a clunk and the Captain, back in racing uniform procured from a Port Town outfitter, clambered out carrying a sleeping Peach. He laid her gently down upon the grass before setting his fists ablaze and staring around defiantly.

"Come on, glowy!" he yelled into the crisp night air. "I know you're there! Trying to lure me into your little trap, huh?"

"It's Shadow with a yellow paint job," said/yawned Sonic.

The Captain turned his head at the sound of the familiar voice, meaning that he missed the sight of the charging yellow mammal that propelled him skywards in turn with a cry of dismay.

"WHAT IN FUCK'S NAME IS YOUR PROBLEM?" cried Shadow after him.

"Don't shout," said Sonic. "You'll wake Peach."

Shadow's mouth became a perfect circle. The emeralds sprang from his black-again fur and concealed themselves as, his vision good enough in the moonlight, he ran over to check on the sleeping princess. He need not have bothered: she was quite clearly dead to the world, and determined to stay that way for a while.

"Where's that yellow prick? I'll turn him into luminescent steaks!"

Sonic summoned up the energy he had not quite recovered and threw himself between the Captain and his quarry. "Whoa there, Sparrow! You crashed into Shadow first. He had a right to be pissed off."

The Captain's face contorted noticeably at the mention of his nickname, but his anger at Shadow subsided, replaced by a combination of joy at seeing an old friend alive and annoyance at seeing that not only had the old friend finished his quest before he did, but had had time to recover and start spouting awful sobriquets again.

"Sonic!" he said, emphasising the former emotion. "Great to see you, buddy? You got the key?" He extended a hand.

Sonic took a look at the hand. While he would rather not let his paw, useful as it was, succumb to a crushing, which given the Captain's brawny arms and Sonic's reuse of the nickname seemed inevitable, to refuse to shake would either be seen as hostile or, if the Captain guessed correctly, a sign of weakness. Sonic caved in to accepting the pain, and tried to mask the agony that rippled up his right arm with a smile.

"Not bad," he said through clenched teeth. "We got the key, yeah. Man, you would not believe the adventures we went through to find it! Crazy stuff!"

The grip was released, and Sonic tried to massage some life back into the mangled appendage.

"Oh, I think I can believe them," said the Captain, folding his arms. "I had a pretty crazy time myself."

"Oh yeah?" Sonic's eyes hardened a scintilla. "Did you fight two mountaineers and a fat penguin on an avalanche?"

"No, but I did fight fifty robots outside a garage."

"Fifty? I can take fifty in my sleep! We dealt with hundreds, and a Project Z clone at the same time!"

"You wanna talk about Project Z clones?" said the Captain, fists clenched. "Try fighting two of them, on a spaceship!"

"I fought three of them, on a mountain, and a giant dragon!"

Sonic's desire to sleep was gone, replaced by his desire to outmatch the Captain in reports of bravado and derring-do. On they bragged, each telling their story with slight amendments that became big amendments into the small hours, and as the sun rose over the gently snoring forms of Shadow and Peach their tales were completely unrecognisable. The Captain was just describing in detail how he had fought the ten foot tall Wolf, armed with two laser cannons, while hanging onto the Great Fox's wing with one hand, when there was a green flash and Zelda appeared. She looked around, smiled gratefully at having found everyone and sat down heavily, looking straight ahead but not seeing anything.

"Zelda!" said Sonic, and then in a less enthusiastic tone of voice, "Are you all right? Do you have the key?"

"Wario's bringing it," said Zelda dumbly, her head on one side. "I warped back to fetch it, but… I sensed that he did not want to be disturbed."

Sonic nodded, a bit confused, and settled down to eat the bacon and tomatoes the Captain had brought.

They ate, they talked, they eventually roused Zelda from her semi-comatose state and then those who had bragged for half the night slept, while those who were asleep woke up. Peach sat down next to Zelda, turning her back firmly on the Captain (whose snores put her in mind of a series of rockets launching), and they discussed their adventures. Both got the feeling the other was hiding something, but as each was hiding some things herself neither wished to pry. This resulted in quite a few awkward silences, which Shadow, standing purposefully apart from the group but not quite far enough to miss any conversation, did nothing to help with. Such was the state of affairs until about eleven of the clock, when Yoshi and Snake arrived.

Even with his hair cut, the explosive-laden Snake was heavy, and Yoshi was used to being carried on a litter more than he was to carrying. He dumped his burden ignobly on the grass near the princesses and helped himself to breakfast, skirting around the bacon but devouring the tomatoes with gusto. He was still involved with this activity when a small whirlwind reached the group, unfolded itself into Meta Knight and proceeded to brood, broodingly, brooding that was only interrupted by a table with Pit on it cantering towards him at high speed and stopping abruptly, throwing the angel off and into Meta Knight.

"I'm the son of a goddess," burbled Pit.

"Good for you," growled a voice from beneath him.

Zelda had said that Wario would return at twelve, so they spent the time until then comparing keys and relating tales. Pit had fallen into a hunched sleep next to the Captain, exhausted after clinging to a table for two days; it had given him exactly ten hours in the middle to sleep before emitting an injured screeching that only ceased when he re-boarded. Yoshi began to pine for his empty tummy as those who were awake watched the hands on Snake's watch, crawling their way around the circle towards and past twelve. Twelve oh five, twelve ten… People were starting to give Zelda suspicious looks.

"Midna…" she grumbled, clenching her fists.

"Yes?"

Zelda jumped and spun around. The voice had come out of nowhere, but then a black hole opened in the sky and, with a loud "whoosh", rained down specks of dark matter that hit the ground and coalesced into two people only Zelda had seen before. There was a tall, dark and immensely beautiful woman, holding the hand of a short, well-built man with a roguish air and a look of disorientation that he swiftly dispelled.

"'We need to return to Hyrule Field by midday,' she says," said the woman, glaring at Zelda. "Didn't think to say which part of Hyrule Field, did you? It's pretty huge!"

A gasp told Zelda that Snake had just made the connection between the handsome male and the missing member of the LOL. The others continued to observe with curious expressions, apart from Meta Knight whose face remained unchanged and unreadable beneath his mask.

"Now then," said Midna, turning to Wario, "have you got both keys?"

The penny, flung at the heads of the onlookers, dropped. Yoshi's mouth actually hung open; Sonic and the Captain, roused by the whooshing, were shocked into wakefulness; Peach just buried her head in her hands and gave an inaudible moan. Even Wario was more attractive than Mario now.

"Yes mama," said Wario with a roll of his eyes.

"Babe, if you're into mother-son role-playing you should have told me earlier."

They kissed with complete indifference to their spectator gallery, tongues merrily frolicking through each other's mouths and producing all kinds of wet noises. Zelda was too appalled by the blatant sexuality of the scene to feel pride in the astonished looks of her companions.

Shadow gave a throaty cough. "Hate to break up this happy reunion…"

"Keep your tail on, furry," said Midna having disengaged. "I'm just going." She stepped away from Wario, letting his hand drop from hers. "See you later, gorgeous." She blew him a kiss, and then she was shooting skywards, decomposing into a black gale that rushed east over the mountains.

"What… just happened?" asked the Captain.

"Shadow's right," said Meta Knight, still poker-faced. "It is time to act. We have our Keys."

Expressions of grim determination replaced those of surprise, Zelda's disgust and Wario's smugness. Five members of the LOL brought forth their SubSpace Keys, looking at them as if for the first time. Wario presented Zelda with her key with decorum, and it was taken with the same gravitas. Pit snored and turned over in his sleep.

"Time to save some heroes," said Sonic. "With the likes of Samus, the Ice Climbers, er… Mario… er… et cetera helping us, the LOVE is as good as history! Ladies, gentlemen, it's the moment we've all been waiting for: the moment where…"

"…you realise you have no idea what to do with the key?"

Sonic glared at Shadow. "I'll figure it out."

With an exaggerated swagger, Sonic approached the oak, key gripped firmly in his right glove. It looked just like any other oak: broad trunk, a head of green leaves, the odd acorn. Maybe there was a keyhole or something in the bark.

"There's a massive blob of purple energy right in front of you," said Shadow dully.

Sonic treated Shadow to another glare. He was three paces or so away from the trunk of the oak. As far as he could see, there was nothing between him and the tree. He took a quick step forward.

He was jerked back awkwardly as his right hand refused to follow. Tugging gently, Sonic found that the key seemed to be stuck in some invisible barrier. Stepping back, he looked at the key, then at the apparently empty space before him, and with a curious expression brought the key up to his face, pushed forward and turned clockwise.

It glowed blinding cyan, so brightly that Sonic had to shield his eyes. Purple ripples started to flow through space, making a low humming noise as they spread out from the key. Sonic had the feeling something was pushing against it, and opposed the force with both hands. The ripples became clearer and more frequent, and now there was a strong wind that was howling from the focus point that ruffled the hair of the onlookers and sent a peculiar chill through their bodies. The ripples had blurred into a wave of purple that extended from the key, and within the wave a portal began to open. Sonic continued to push against the repulsion with gritted teeth, and the portal yawned wider, larger than Sonic now, before it stopped. The wind died, the noise ceased and the repulsion withdrew so suddenly that Sonic almost fell face-first into the portal, large and purple before him.

"Hey!" he said, turning to the watching group with a foolish smile on his face. "I figured it out!"

o o o

It was time. The Dark Prison, the goal of the last week of trouble, danger and irregular sleeping patterns, lay before them, its mouth open like a basking shark waiting for its krill. (Technically it had snapped shut when Sonic walked away from it, but it was open to all intents and purposes.) All that remained was for the eight who would be entering to pluck up the courage to do so.

After some attempts to shake Pit awake, it was decided that he should be carried in by Yoshi, who had complained bitterly but in a language the people making the decision either could not or pretended not to understand. Remaining rations were further rationed, being divided up into roughly equal portions. Snake slung a bag full of berries from his shoulder and gave them to Yoshi, who from then on bore his burden with slightly better grace. When asked by Peach in concerned tones what he would eat, an action that only provoked the slightest of tics in Captain Falcon's face, Snake responded that he and Shadow would survive "off the fat of the land". Shadow shuddered and spat.

With the preparations complete, the Captain held up his key, pushed it towards the tree and rotated. The ripples, the humming, the wind: all was as before, right down to the re-opening of the portal. Grasping his glowing key firmly, the Captain stepped inside. Meta Knight was next, and as he entered his key started to glow too. Through they went, one after another like pairs of animals into Noah's Ark, until only those with names beginning with "s" remained. Sonic took his first step beyond the portal.

"Hey, Sonic!"

He spun round. While Shadow looked pointedly away, Snake was watching him with a slight smile.

"Don't keep us waiting, huh?"

And that was the happiest day of Sonic's life.

o o o

The other side of the portal was purple, misty and not very hospitable-looking. Purple platforms led into purple space, and the purple air felt light and insubstantial. Sonic took an experimental look back over his shoulder. Where the portal had been, there was now a massive purple double door, slammed shut and surrounded by tentacles over ten times as long as Sonic. The hedgehog shook his head at the designer's sense of décor (or lack thereof).

"Sonic!"

The voice that fell like a lead balloon into the silence was the Captain's, coming from further down the platforms. After a short jog, Sonic found him and the others, gathered in a sort of ring and looking anxious.

"There," said Zelda, looking at Meta Knight. "We're all here. Now let me go to him!"

Meta Knight nodded, or rather rocked back and forth. Zelda rushed away from Sonic, followed by everyone else.

"Not even a how-de-do?" said Sonic bitterly.

Within two steps he had forgiven them. He was standing in a long room, classified as such because unlike the platforms it had a ceiling between him and the massive expanse of stars in a purple sky, and walls between him and oblivion. Attached to each wall was a lilac container, of the kind housing Ness Z and Porky's other experiments, and inside each container was something attached to a number of wires, floating gently. Sonic peered into the nearest one. It contained a boy in a navy blue parka, holding a large wooden mallet.

"Hey!" he yelled. "It's Popo!"

No reply came. Looking around, Sonic saw that most people had found a preferred container. Zelda was leaning against the one containing Link, crying bitter tears over its glass. Peach was displaying a slightly more restrained attitude before her hero's chamber, big blue eyes welling up but not overflowing. Behind her stood Wario, twiddling his thumbs and looking awkwardly at his former rival. The Captain looked at the squat form of Olimar, shaking his head sadly; Meta Knight sat motionless before Kirby's vessel; and Pit, still half asleep, had made his teenager's way semi-consciously towards the lithe form of Samus.

Only Yoshi was not concentrating on any container in particular. He roved from one to the other, inspecting and pondering. Sonic came up to him.

"Hey, Yoshi," he said. "How're you doing?"

"I'm trying to discern the reason behind the secondary canisters. The forms within…"

"Yeah, fascinating isn't it?"

Sonic walked off to browse while Yoshi sighed and inspected the hairy form of Donkey Kong, contained in a jumbo canister. Next to him, an identical canister resided, and contained within it was another Donkey Kong. There was a major difference between the two, however: this second Donkey Kong had no bottom half. Instead of the ape's powerful gluteus maximus and disproportionately small lower limbs, there seemed to be two crudely drawn black legs. Yet as Yoshi looked, they started to flesh out. Fur sprang from the thighs, and they began to expand into three dimensions.

"Oh my Gods – it's the flat people!"

Sonic was staring in astonishment at the container between Link and the manifestation of Link's consciousness, existing as a glowing orb that presumably consisted of Ganondorf's magic. In the container, fixed to the same wires as any of the heroes, was one of the flat black shapes that the Flatzone had been churning out not so long before.

"We saw them coming from this gigantic factory on top of Icicle Mountain!" jabbered Sonic as the others crowded round. "They were made out of SubSpace, and then they… Whoa!"

The dimensions of the flat man were changing. His nose was shrinking, his arms were lengthening, his torso was getting broader. A greenish hue was beginning to replace the black. Yoshi nodded sagely from his vantage point. So that factory made the black men, presumably turning SubSpace into a form the machines could use, and then they were transferred here where they were made into Project Z clones. The Donkey Kong clone was now fully formed, and as Yoshi watched lights on the canister turned green, symbolising completion. The process seemed relatively quick, so why was the world not overrun by these clones?

He got his answer almost immediately. A red light turned on and the wires began to fizz, sending pulses of brightly coloured energy into the convulsing clone's brain. The ape trembled for a bit, before its head blew apart silently and the body became nothing but purple mist. Another red light marked "Defect" lit up, the mist was sucked from the fluid and another flat man slid silently in to take his predecessor's place.

Yoshi wished he had a notebook, and that he could write. So the majority of clones were defective. Quite the inefficient process if the LOVE was hoping to build up an army. If they had some way of improving it…

"Yoshi!"

Peach's wail came too late. Something heavy had landed on his ceremonial saddle, and placed its oddly cold hands over his eyes. All at once he felt a deep emptiness inside his brain, replaced almost immediately by a burning ball of pure rage that seeped through him, filling his body with anger and madness.

The seven onlookers could only look on as the man's hands blazed with purple energy. Even Sonic recognised who this was.

"It's him, Mario!"

The most iconic figure of all Nintendo, the greatest hero on the planet, some said in the galaxy. Not that he looked it – Mario was small and podgy, with an untidy moustache below a rounded nose. His outfit was no hero's, either: he wore a red cap with the letter "M" on, a red top and blue dungarees. He looked every inch the plumber he was, rather than the doctor he had tried to be, although neither had owned a pair of glowing cyan eyes.

His white gloves emerged from over Yoshi's eyes, which had turned bright red. Then the two charged.

"Look out!" yelled Pit.

Mario's hand glowed, and formed an orb of fire the same size as his head. The orb flashed towards the group of onlookers, who threw themselves clumsily out of the way. Wario was not quite quick enough and the burning ball ignited his trousers, sending him running around in panic.

Yoshi reached the heaps of fallen people and stuck his tongue out. It wrapped itself around Pit's head and sucked the yelling boy in to sample the delights of the dinosaur digestive system. Meta Knight, as always the first to recover, shot at Mario with his blade flashing, but Mario swung a yellow cape that turned him the other way and sent him flying towards the canisters. He barely avoided the fireball that followed, and failed entirely to avoid the thrown egg that knocked him unconscious. Pit emerged from the eggshell, in a state that was not much better.

Mario leapt from his dinosaur steed, who immediately fell to the ground, drained and unable to move. The gloved fist hissed down towards Peach, who just managed to roll away. They stood stationary for a moment, looking into each other's eyes; Peach's with terror, Mario's with the attempt of grasping something that kept eluding him. Then a ball of blue spikes whizzed into the side of Mario's head and knocked him sideways.

"Come on, plumber!" yelled Sonic. "Let's see how you take on the hero of Mobius!"

Mario shook his head and faced Sonic's spiny whirlwind down calmly. On impact, the plumber's entire body became metal, sending Sonic backwards with a "ping" and a cry of pain. The Captain was next, charging into Mario with a Falcon Kick that he easily jumped over, treating the Captain to a barrage of arrows Pit had meant for his quarry. A nozzle full of water appeared on Mario's back and kept Pit at bay with a stream of liquid, while the Captain's fist met a large mallet coming down. There was a sickening crunch and the Captain was knocked away.

"Is there anything this guy can't do?" he moaned from the ground.

Pit jumped up and rushed towards Mario with a hoarse cry. Zelda, who had been circling around the Captain looking for an opening, now did the same, her body enveloped in a blur of magic as she ran. When it faded, she gave a squeal and drew to a stop: Sheik's costume had not been fixed since the episode with the fake Ganondorf's sword, and on reflex she tried to cover her crotch and chest with her hands. Then she was hit in the face by the screaming body of Pit.

Mario looked around in search of fresh blood, panting only slightly. Left to fight were Sonic, recovered and charging up a spin attack; Wario, who had finally managed to extinguish his burning bottom; and Peach, who lay utterly still, doing nothing but watching.

Mario's eyes lingered for a moment too long on Peach, allowing Sonic to hit him in the face with another hit-and-run attack. Then Wario was on him, a bit quicker with his dodges following his training but with an equally powerful punch. Mario danced around his rival's haymakers, keeping an eye on Sonic as the hedgehog rushed in again. Leaping backwards, Mario charged his fist with purple fire and whacked the spinning Mobian into Wario's face, sending him flying back. Mario followed this up with a few good punches that rendered Wario unconscious and removed a tooth for good measure.

Sonic uncurled, extinguished a small flame on his fur and looked at Mario, the man/clone who had just taken out six of his friends without breaking a sweat. He wished he had the Chaos Emeralds. Oh, _how_ he wished he had the Chaos Emeralds.

Mario must have seen this, for a slight smirk appeared below the moustache. Sonic had no idea where the mushroom came from, but Mario gulped it down in one and was, before Sonic had a chance to squeak in fear, twice his original size. He now towered over Sonic, his footsteps shaking the ground beneath the petrified hedgehog's trainers. Mario looked down at Sonic and smiled.

"The Doctor will see you now."

A large red and blue pill appeared in his hand. Mario had never succeeded in becoming a full-time doctor: as he drew his arm back, Sonic had a feeling he was about to find out why.

"Mario, stop!"

Mario filled Sonic's vision, so he was unable to see Peach. All he could do was listen to her voice.

"Please stop, Mario! All this pain and destruction – it's not you!"

The giant clone swivelled unsteadily, and Sonic thought that he detected a glint of guilt. The shining blue eyes looked down and locked with Peach's again, barely a giant pace away from him. Not afraid like the others, instead they were brimming with sadness.

"My Mario," she said, putting her arms around his leg. "What have they done to you?"

The pill vanished up Mario's sleeve. His mouth opened and closed several times before it spoke. "I'm not your Mario."

"Of course you are!"

"No," he said, turning away and almost trampling Sonic. "I'm not Mario. They told me."

"Who did?"

"Mario doesn't feel all this darkness. Mario is a hero. I am just a creature of SubSpace, made to serve my masters!"

As the effects of the mushroom began to wear off, Sonic watched Mario slowly return to normal size, shaking with barely suppressed emotion as he did so. Peach draped her arms around the plumber's neck and pressed herself into his back.

"They t-t-told me…" moaned the clone, "they said that if I kept my watch here, the p-p-pain would go away… The misery…"

"Hush," Peach said, removing his cap and stroking her slight hand through Mario's tousled brown hair. "Don't listen to them. You are my Mario, and I love you most and best. I _can_ make the pain go away."

Mario faced her again. "Oh Peach… Though the darkness was ever so great, I never…"

"I know, my darling. I know."

She wrapped her arms around him anew and, bending down, pushed her lips up against his. His arms encircled her in turn, and as he clung Sonic noticed the cyan glint from Peach's right hand, hovering behind the clone. Without lifting her lips, Peach pushed the SubSpace Key into his neck. Mario gave a strangled cry, and then he was flowing backwards into the gem as Peach held it still, until the last fragments became purple mist and were swallowed, the cry still hanging. Peach stood up, put the key in her pocket and straightened her hair.

"Damn, that was cold," said Sonic.

Peach shrugged.

Then the two of them were blown off their feet as a large white shape flew overhead. From his position on the ground, Sonic watched as what seemed to be a giant white hand flew down the corridor, turned right and disappeared.

"My God," said Peach.

"What's that?" asked Sonic.

Peach rolled her eyes and pelted after the flying hand. Sonic jogged behind her. From the floor, Yoshi slowly raised himself and put the still unconscious Meta Knight on his back. Then he followed Sonic with tired and unsteady steps, the others walking with varying levels of difficulty behind him. The Captain, with many misgivings, supported/dragged Wario along with his good arm.

"At least he's not so fat now," he gasped.

Reaching the end of the corridor of canisters, still trying to produce clones with a low success rate, Peach and Sonic saw the cyan stairs leading up into purple space and the iridescent platform that was at the top. The hand they had been chasing was floating above that, making quick convulsive movements. As the two made their way up the stairs, its voice quickly became audible: loud and booming, with hints of insanity around the edges and the occasional manic chuckle.

…HAPPENED TO YOU, SIBLING? it asked. ONCE SO FULL OF LOVE FOR THE WORLD, YOU WOULD NOW STOP IT IN ITS TRACKS? WUB WUB?

Sonic stopped trying to keep pace and broke into a sprint. He dashed up the stairs three at a time towards the floating hand and its "sibling", a second hand levitating in kind. This one was calmer, with less tics and tremors, and was a right hand to the other's left.

YOU TRY MY PATIENCE, it hollered, a voice that shook the soul. ALWAYS WITH YOUR STRANGE BELIEFS AND STRANGE NOISES. I CREATED YOU TO BE A SPIRIT OF DESTRUCTION! HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT ALREADY?

IF ALL IS STOPPED, THERE IS NO DESTRUCTION! NO CREATION EITHER! NOTHING BUT A VAST, EMPTY, TIMELESS EXPANSE!

The right hand smirked. Yes, it was a hand, but the smug little grunt and the sweeping movement it made, as if it were a lord pooh-poohing his serf's demands, were definite smirk material. So thought Sonic, as he reached the top of his climb and stared up in wonder at the two hands, apparently discussing the future of the world. Was this where SubSpace, the time-stopping purple mist of SubSpace, fitted in?

I TIRE OF YOUR PRATTLING said the right hand. IT IS A SHAME YOU ESCAPED YOUR PRISON, AND SINCE ENCARCERATION WILL NOT SATISFY YOU I MUST RESORT TO OTHER MEANS OF PUNISHMENT.

Had they freed the left hand by destroying the Mario clone? Was this a good thing?

Evidently the right hand thought not. As Peach reached the top of her climb, and made the same goldfish-like expression Sonic was sporting, it began to flex. Its fingers were surrounded by blue lightning, which crackled and spat and nearly fried Sonic and Peach where they stood.

SIBLING, I CANNOT ALLOW YOU TO DO THIS! cried the left hand. IT SEEMS THAT I, THE SO CALLED "CRAZY HAND", MUST SAVE YOU FROM YOUR OWN INSANITY!

The right hand extended an index finger, sending a beam of blue light that seemingly pinned the Crazy Hand to an invisible wall. The Crazy Hand shook and cried, an unhinged yell of anguish matched in volume only by the booming laughter of its sibling.

AND I AM THE MASTER HAND, CREATIVE SPIRIT! it yelled. NOW WATCH ME CREATE FOR YOU A UNIVERSE OF PAIN, AND MASTER YOU!

The laser ceased, leaving the Crazy Hand limp and crackling. Then it began to wobble, slightly at first, then strongly with a roar of defiance. Curling into a fist, it threw itself at the Master Hand.

Yoshi reached the top in time to see one hand smack into each other's palm, where they struggled for a while, stationary yet between them emitting enough power to destroy the planet and create another in its place. The Crazy Hand seemed to win the struggle, throwing the Master Hand back, but the latter extended two fingers and shot from them an orange missile that exploded against its foe with a flash, a bang and a growl. Unbeaten, the Crazy Hand spread its palm flat and swung, missing the Master Hand; the Master Hand in turn swept its palm downwards, then clenched and punched up. The Crazy Hand dodged both blows by inches.

"What the hell's going on?" said the Captain, dumping Wario on the lip of the platform.

"A battle between creation and destruction," said Yoshi, eyes wide in wonder. "A battle for Nintendo itself!" Nobody understood him, of course.

The Crazy hand had positioned itself above its opponent, and with a wiggle of its fingers summoned explosives that hailed down on the Master Hand. While the latter trembled, the Crazy Hand sliced down, all fingers extended and spinning rapidly, and seemed to drill through the right hand until it lay lifeless on the platform. The Crazy Hand shook slightly, and gave out great pants that ruffled Sonic's fur despite the hand's lack of mouth.

SORRY I AM, BLUB GLUB, said the Crazy Hand, BUT YOU HAD TO BE STOPPED BEFORE YOU DESTROYED THE WHOLE WORLD.

THE WHOLE WORLD? OH NO NO NO. SURELY NOT.

It curled around again, the Master Hand, and flexed its fingers. Red circles drew in towards it – one, two, three red rings.

I WOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

The Crazy Hand was a fist again, hurtling towards its sibling. In response, the Master Hand extended its fingers. One red ring emerged, hurling the Crazy Hand back and towards the gate with the tentacles, the scream of rage stopped dead as it flew. Then another ring emerged, and then a third. Sonic felt the second ring hit him, not painful exactly but immeasurably strong. It lifted him off his feet almost gently. There was pain, but it was dulling already. He felt almost relaxed as he, and Peach, and the rest of the LOL were hurled towards the door, barely able to hear the Master Hand's booming farewell words.

I WILL CONQUER THE ENTIRE GALAXY!

o o o

"The time is at hand!" said Ganondorf, his yellowish smile gleaming from the monitor. "Bowser, the lever!"

Bowser looked over his shoulder at the troll behind him, still holding Bowser Junior captive on the end of his pole. He even felt a smidgen of pity for the troll. Poor sod, obeying his master unquestioningly, not knowing that he was helping to bring about the end. The end for him, the end for all the rest of the world.

But Bowser clung to the faint hope that some day he could bring back his children, and Kammy, and the Princess. The process might be reversible. Who knew? It was unlike anything that had been tried before. Death had been tried many times before, and was well known to be irreversible. Bowser gave a final forlorn glance at his son, bound and gagged and held upside down, and pushed the lever.

The two towers, primed and ready to go, sent their signal of oblivion out across Nintendo. It only took two minutes for the whole of the planet to go under. Bowser watched with grim fascination as the space between him and the troll, stupidity stamped across its stunned features, filled with purple, until there was no space any more.

Only SubSpace.

From miles away, down fibre optic cables, Ganondorf laughed.


	18. 8 Vice ii

"Sonic! SONIC!"

Sonic… Sonic… The word seemed familiar. Of course! It was a name. Whose name? Why, his name! Sonic sprang to his feet.

"Shadow?" he said, thrown again. "What happened? Am I outside?"

Super Shadow chuckled mirthlessly. "See for yourself."

Sonic looked around. He was outside, and he recognised the oak, up on the hill above. The grass, the trees, the sky – all as they should be, except for the purple haze that covered them.

"Everything's gone purple?" Sonic tried.

"Has it really? I hadn't noticed. Try your other senses."

Sonic listened to the absence of rustling grass, of birdsong, of any noise at all. When he sniffed, no smell of fresh grass or of anything else filled his nostrils. It was almost suffocating. He removed a glove and put an experimental paw to the ground. The soil felt rock hard.

"What's happened?" he asked Shadow again.

Shadow shrugged. "Why don't you ask him?"

Sonic looked over Shadow's shoulder, yelped and rushed over to the stationary form of Snake. A peculiar purple colour like everything else, he was standing stock still, not even breathing. His eyes were tilted skywards, a look of astonishment on his face. Sonic gave him an experimental poke – he felt like stone.

"Trophy base, too," said Shadow, pointing at the golden circle beneath Snake's feet. "Just like the R.O.B.s.

"Snake and I were standing here when we saw this massive purple wave coming from the east, covering the sky with lilac. There was another one coming from the west too. It looked just like SubSpace from back in the factory. As soon as the purple waves reached us, meeting each other in the sky, he froze. Not all at once – he started to slow down, and then just stopped. He's been like that ever since.

"I don't know how much time passed after that. I didn't know what to do. But at some point, this massive purple shape came out of the oak and landed with a thud over on the grass. It was some sort of giant hand, but it was a trophy before it came out. You can see it, just over there. It was followed by you guys, all trophies.

"I brought you over here, away from the hand and the oak. I get the feeling something's going to come out of that opening soon, and I don't wanna be near it when that happens."

All trophies? Sonic was struck dumb. His friends were gone, victims of SubSpace. Everything was gone. Stopped, trophy-fied, frozen in time. Were he and Shadow the only ones left moving in the whole world? Speaking of which…

"How come I'm not a trophy any more then?" he asked. "And what about you?"

"The Keys."

Sonic leapt, Shadow floated several inches off the ground and they both stared down at the small round figure.

"This is the Day of Reckoning," growled Meta Knight. "The SubSpace Keys were designed not only to let people into the Dark Prison, but also to keep them moving in SubSpace. I'd imagine Shadow's emeralds protect him from the same fate as Snake."

Sonic and Shadow just stared at him.

"Not my hypothesis, I must admit," he continued. "Yoshi's idea. We're all awake now, just a little stunned."

Sonic looked behind him. The members of the LOL were getting to or on their feet, breathing, trophy base-less and, he noticed, still in colour.

"But I have my own theory," Meta Knight said, inspecting his glowing key. "I suspect these were never meant to be a permanent solution. As time passes they will absorb SubSpace, until they fill up and we too freeze in time."

Sonic pulled his own Key out of his fur. Its stone still shone brilliant cyan, but now half of it was filled with a malevolent purple glittering.

"They have already absorbed enough to bring us back from trophy form," continued Meta Knight, sounding like a prophet foretelling the end of all things. "I do not know how long they…"

"AAAAAAAAH!"

It started off lower, the scream, then suddenly rose in pitch to an ear-piercing wail. Sonic, Shadow and Meta Knight dashed, flew and Tornado-ed over to where the others were standing and staring at Peach, who was looking at her hands with a hunted expression.

"What's going on?" she yelled, almost in tears. "Why did everything speed up?"

"Everything didn't speed up," said Pit, taking a step back. "You slowed down."

Sonic noticed her key, clutched tightly in her right hand. The gem was almost completely purple, after absorbing the extra SubSpace from the clone Mario.

"Peach," he said, "just stay…"

They had grown almost accustomed to the background silence, a fact they only realised when it was broken. The massive explosion caused them to fall over, eardrums singing in pain. When the purple cloud at the top of the hill had receded, two figures had taken its place, also in different colours.

"No one here?" said one in a cut-glass voice. "How disappointing. I went to a good deal of trouble telling them exactly where to come when the SubSpace waves hit. Maybe the e-mail didn't send. SubSpace shouldn't freeze the Internet, should it?"

"Everyone, down behind the furrow!" hissed Shadow unnecessarily, because they were lying face down already.

"Zelda, are you okay?" said Wario, taking her trembling hand.

Zelda said nothing. She gritted her teeth and buried her face in the grass.

"Or maybe they _all_ gave their Keys away," continued the figure. "Their loss, in that case."

"They probably haven't had time to get here," rumbled the voice of the other one.

"Well, I'm not willing to wait long. They'll have to… Ah, here comes one!"

There was a mutual turning of heads from the LOL. A creature coming from behind would have seen them clearly, dots of colour against the mauve terrain. Fortunately, there was no one visible.

"I'm getting a slight rise in SubSpace energy on the other side of the oak," said Shadow. "We're safe for now."

They waited with bated breath, looking up the hill, until a large winged figure rounded the oak and landed heavily. He gave a gasp of agony and dropped to the ground.

"Ah, Ridley!" said Ganondorf, walking over to meet the new arrival. "_So_ glad you could make it. Goodness me, you look a state! I mean, I like the metal exoskeleton, but what's with all the dents? You look like Samus has come back from beyond!"

"In a manner of speaking," wheezed Ridley. "Ganondorf, what's going on here? Everything's purple and frozen! There's SubSpace everywhere!"

"Ah yes," said Ganondorf, smiling broadly. "The two are kind of linked actually. I was going to wait for everyone to arrive before I did the explanation, but you seem to be the only one who has deigned to show up. Do you have your Key?"

"Lost it." Ridley spat purple. "That Sonic creature beat it out of me."

Sonic allowed himself a grin. Ganondorf tutted.

"Oh well," he said. "Never mind. At least you didn't hand it over, eh Bowser?"

He chuckled. Bowser stared grimly at the grass.

"So," said Ganondorf, "let's give you some exposition, shall we? It all began slightly more than a year ago, before we contacted you. I was sought out by… a friend, who taught me all about this mysterious purple fluid called SubSpace. Sometimes it behaves like a liquid; sometimes, like a gas; sometimes it behaves more like empty space. It was versatile enough to be formed into the barrier that once surrounded this planet. But I digress.

"Its most important properties are threefold. One, it will freeze most things in time upon contact, making it ideal for barriers. Two, for those with significantly darker minds than average, a sufficiently strong blast of SubSpace can actually be absorbed, giving the user immense power. They do need to be _significantly _darker than usual though, Bowser, so trying to imbue your cheeky but ultimately well-intentioned son was never going to work."

Bowser looked up with a horrified grunt. Was there nothing Ganondorf didn't know about him?

"The fact that you're moving without a Key means that you must have absorbed the SubSpace – well done! You took quite a blast yourself, I assume?"

Ridley thought about crashing through the Flatzone, but said nothing. "What was the third property?"

Ganondorf held up a hand. "All in good time, Riddles.

"Now, we owe a lot to this friend. He not only imbued me and Bowser with SubSpace power – he also suggested that we invite other villains, including you, to help us take over Nintendo, and gave us the technological know-how to set up your factory. And all this…" He indicated the purple stillness around them. "…was his idea! But how, I hear you ask?

"In return for the power of SubSpace, this… friend wanted some projects run for him. One was Project Z, which of course you know about – or do you?"

No, thought Sonic, he doesn't.

"You don't actually," said Ganondorf before Ridley could respond. "What your Flatzone was actually doing was processing SubSpace in a manner that could be fed through several machines we constructed with his help. The third wonderful property of SubSpace is the way it can be moulded into men, which can be prototyped by machine to produce the Project Z clones you know and love. And here comes one now!"

The portal was opening, and out of it stepped a figure of the same dimensions as Mario. Its appearance, however, was totally different – a glowing purple wireframe, with some basic organs in its chest and a red mask. It turned its featureless face towards Ganondorf and Bowser.

"They look different in SubSpace," Ganondorf explained. "Hang around, Mario – we may need you soon. And you don't want to go back to the Mushroom Kingdom. I hear Bowser's made a right mess of it."

Bowser bit his lip.

"Project Z was, sadly, not as efficient as we might have hoped," said Ganondorf sadly as Mario took up a position beside the oak. "The SubSpace has to be piped to your factory, and then go through the Flatzone, and then come back as men, and have those men transformed into clones. The journeys cost us quite a bit of SubSpace. When the men arrive, they're weak and often fail to clone correctly. Our friend had an idea that would help things along, which he called Project Ω. Aha, I see your eyes light up! You recognise that from the dossiers at your factory, eh? But don't know what it is? Let me explain.

"Bowser and I were tasked with having two massive towers built, known as Projects X and Y. They took a long time to build, _especially_ Bowser's one, but they're done now. Essentially they take SubSpace direct from this portal here and saturate Nintendo's atmosphere with it, freezing everyone who hasn't got some sort of resistance to it! But the best part is that your Flatzone is now being overloaded with a high concentration of SubSpace coming in from the massive funnels in the top of the factory. The procession of men is coming in thick and fast, and they're losing less of themselves on the way back because they're surrounded by SubSpace, meaning that the creation process will speed up and produce fewer defectives! Do you see?"

As if to demonstrate the point, another clone emerged, this one a clone of Red. It stood nearby, no doubt waiting for some clone Pokémon to emerge, until Ganondorf's fist thudded into its wireframe chest and it dispersed into mist.

"That is Project Ω in a nutshell. But all this is only Stage 1. Now that everyone on the planet is frozen, we can select the best for cloning, making a huge army with which we shall conquer the galaxy, filling it with SubSpace as we go! Doesn't that sound brilliant?"

Ridley stared at Ganondorf with vacant eyes. The stones had gone, and his migraine was back, accompanied by pain in pretty much every other part of his body. Bits of his exoskeleton were hanging off, and two of his limbs and his tail were all broken. If SubSpace had bestowed upon him "immense power", it was doing a good job of hiding it.

"Oh, you doubt me," said Ganondorf with a wink. "You perch there, thinking, 'Ho, this Ganondorf chappy, this technologically backwards gardener, what does he know about SubSpace? What does he know about anything? And why does my head still hurt?' Isn't that right, Riddles?"

"I don't like being called Riddles," growled Ridley.

"Oh, don't be so gauche, Riddles. Here, let me give you a little demonstration of what SubSpace can do."

Ganondorf's voice had gotten lower, his shoulders more hunched. Purple lightning, barely visible against the equally purple background, crackled around his body as he began to change shape. His nose receded, his teeth dropped, and he fell onto all four limbs as they developed hooves. His red hair grew outwards, and began to spring from his backside as well. And he grew – oh, how he grew. His robust armour plating gave up the ghost with barely a whimper, as his body shot out in all directions. Ridley scrambled frantically away from the snout of the giant pig Ganondorf had become, barely recognisable save for the red hair and gem on his forehead, although that had turned from yellow to violet.

"You see, Ridley?" he intoned in a voice deeper than Meta Knight's and far more powerful, which still maintained traces of the upper-class gaiety Ganondorf had been wont to demonstrate. "This is what SubSpace could have done for you, old fellow! You should have found out about it earlier, you know! Because if you had done, you might have stood a chance."

The massive boar, three times Ganondorf's original height, began to paw at the ground. Ridley realised the very real danger he was in and flapped his wings clumsily, just about becoming airborne.

"But sadly, it was not to be. Villains have never liked sharing power, Riddles, especially not with dinosaurs that get beaten up by hedgehogs. I just don't think you're universe-ruling material."

Ridley opened his mouth and fired a beam of yellow energy. In response the boar roared, a roar that shook the LOL at the bottom of the hill, transfixed Ridley and dissipated the beam in mid-air. Then it charged, there was a crunch and Ridley was flying far over the horizon, his scream vanishing into the dead air and his body forming a star in the sky as it vanished from sight.

Ganonboar, panting slightly and with a hideous grin on its large-fanged face, turned back to Bowser, who was in his shell and skating away from the swine.

"Oh, well done!" said the latter with a chuckle. "You figured out that you were next! Shame you took so long, though. Too late now."

Now it was Ganonboar's turn to fire a beam, which was of course purple. It struck Bowser's shell with a low crackle, sending him flying towards the LOL's hiding place.

"Run for it!" yelled Sonic.

They scattered, using legs, wings and magic to get out of the way of the approaching shell. Looking over his shoulder, Sonic saw Peach running at half speed. The shadow of the shell loomed over her as she failed to run any faster, a slow teardrop oozing from her eye. Then she was whisked off in a yellow glow by Shadow, just before Bowser's head and limbs popped out of his shell and he hit the ground, dazed and smoking slightly. He groaned.

From behind him, the voice of Ganonboar rang out, echoing even in the dead space: "Now I am become Ganon, destroyer of worlds! This is the end, Bowser!"

Snake's trophy had not been rescued from the collision. Bowser had landed on top of it, and it was unscathed. His mind raced as the sound of Ganon's terrible hooves thundered behind him. Summoning what strength he had left, he leapt from Snake and put his hands on the trophy.

Ganon screeched to a halt. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Purple energy was sucked from the trophy up Bowser's brawny arms. He had practised this with his son and Kammy, little knowing how important it would prove. Snake blinked.

"No!" roared Ganon.

"Where am I?" said Snake, shaking his head.

"Not important," said Bowser, glowing purple. "Remember how I saved your life? Time to repay the debt."

Snake stared stunned at the giant boar, who stared equally stunned at him. Snake waved his arms experimentally. The pig, many times his height, flinched with an expression of pure terror on its enormous features. Then Bowser's strong scaly arms were wrapped around the human, and he was being hurled towards Ganon's face. He landed with a smack and gripped onto the red hair for dear life.

"Get him off me!" yelled Ganon, shaking his massive head. "Get the slimy reptile off me!"

Snake could feel time speeding up around him as the SubSpace filled his body again. Thinking quickly, he reached into his pocket and drew a small piece of C4, clinging to Ganon like a limpet with the other hand. He stuck the C4 to the purple jewel, just as his grip was loosened and he flew from Ganon's face.

"Bang," his freezing lips said, and he activated the detonator.

An unearthly wail drowned out the noise of the explosion. The jewel shattered, Ganon began to shrink. His cries became higher-pitched and his face started to regain its normal proportions. Hooves vanished, hair receded and forelegs became arms. In all of five seconds, Ganon was become Ganondorf, destroyer of heroes, panting on all fours and entirely unclothed.

"Okay," he said, getting up, "that was clever, I admit. Using Snake against me. But even as a human, I'm more than a match for..."

Suddenly there was no Bowser, just a bright purple light that forced Ganondorf to cover his eyes, snarling. When he peeked out from beneath his hand, standing in the purple glow was…

"Your heart will be the only one to bleed, gardener."

It was twice Bowser's height. Its arms and legs were proportionally longer and more muscular, as was its tail. Its orange scales had turned a dark brown, its horns were longer and curved like a ram's, and its red hair rivalled Ganonboar's in length and volume.

Ganondorf stepped back, his hands spread in front of him. "N-n-now, B-B-Bowser, can't we discuss this? Teamwork, we agreed, remember? And you need to give me the order to release your son from…"

The clawed hand had curled into a fist. It now launched itself at the dark wizard, producing a plume of purple light on impact and knocking him back. Ganondorf spat purple blood and tried to pick himself up. Instead, the monster lowered its head to the ground, sucked in a torrent of air and roared:

"BANG, and the shit is gone!"

A massive palm shot round and grabbed Ganondorf. The green man struggled ineffectually, kicking his legs like a baby . SubSpace, flowing down his captor's pillar-sized arm, was being squeezed into him, faster and in greater volume than his evil could cope with. This time, the "son on a stick" ploy could not save him. Ganondorf's struggles became slower and slower, until all that remained was a grinning monster grasping a purple statuette. It was thrown to the ground viciously and punted into the distance.

Bowser's new form turned to the oak tree again, where a portal was slowly opening. Out of it emerged a large white hand, flexing its fingers experimentally. Bowser smiled and walked towards it.

"My liege," he said, bowing his head on lumbering approach. "Giga Bowser, at your service. All has been done as you asked. Project Ω is complete."

The hand spun slightly, as if looking around. SO I SEE. YOUR GUARD DID A SHODDY JOB OF CONTAINING MY TREACHEROUS SIBLING, THOUGH.

Bowser looked at the hand statuette, motionless on the grass. "My apologies, Master. I see that he has been dealt with, though. And our army is emerging as planned."

They were. Every ten seconds or so now, the portal was spitting out a new purple wireframe being, forming neat ranks upon the hill.

OF COURSE IT IS. I PLANNED IT AS SUCH. WELL, I SAY _I_ PLANNED IT…

What a curious turn of phrase, Bowser thought. What could it mean? Furthermore, what could the golden chains attached to the Hand's fingers mean? Why had he not seen them before? They seemed to be connecting the Hand to the portal…

IN FACT I'VE BEEN NOTHING MORE THAN A PUPPET FOR QUITE SOME TIME.

The ends of the chains emerged, attached to what resembled a haze of blue that spread out like a genie emerging from its lamp. Slowly it expanded, filling Bowser's vision.

"_But it has fulfilled its purpose."_

The chains yanked the Hand, large as Giga Bowser, around and around, twirling it as if its weight was negligible, and let it fly.

"_It can join its sibling now."_

The Master Hand crashed down on top of the Crazy Hand, purple and with a trophy base, on the other side of the army of clones from the barely breathing LOL.

Bowser looked in confusion at the blue smoke, which seemed not to speak or even to transfer messages directly into his mind, as Mewtwo had been wont to do, but convey the meanings of its sentences without even bothering to use words…

"_I find it easier simply to manipulate the neurons in your brain."_

Who was this creature?

"_Well may you ask that," I said, using the word "said" in its loosest possible sense. "I am, in my natural form, beyond your feeble comprehension. Don't feel angry – it's true. The comprehension of every being on this planet is feeble, save for my own and maybe those of the Hands. Allow me to take on a form of matter, that you may understand me better."_

It was all very well for the cloud of blue light to tell Bowser what he should and should not feel, but Bowser felt insulted nonetheless. He looked on with a grimace as the blue shrunk into the figure of a man, barely taller than Snake had been, sharing a lot in common with the clones – an insubstantial body, though cyan, and a single internal organ, red and pulsing, within its chest cavity.

"_I am the Forbidden One. My true name would be incomprehensible to you: you may call me Tabuu."_

"Taboo-oo?" said Bowser, imitating the "words" the being conveyed.

"_It is incorrect, but will suffice," I said, still troubled by my difficulty in conveying spoken language. "I must thank you, Giga Bowser. You and all the villains who worked for me to let me explore this world. For so long I have desired to leave the Final Destination. Only now…"_

"You need the SubSpace to move?"

_You would describe what I felt just then as anger, maybe. This acknowledgement of my incapability of moving through space… Although I was no longer forbidden from accessing this world, it still stung. _

"_It helps. But this is just the beginning. I wish to explore this galaxy, this verse of Space! That is what this army is for – it will spread SubSpace across the stars. Soon there will be Project Ωs spanning all you can see! Space will be banished: SubSpace will cover all!"_

"Yes, my liege!" said Giga Bowser, with what he hoped was a roar of enthusiasm. "But… one thing continues to bother me…"

"_You wish to know what is the point in you ruling a galaxy where everything is frozen? I see no point. I think it would be pointless. And that, Giga Bowser, is why your role in this grand scheme ends here."_

And where had this new chain come from? Golden like the others, Tabuu held one end in his hand, and the other was flashing towards him, Bowser. Now it was around his neck, and tightening. He yelled, a cry of betrayal that in no way ceased the purple SubSpace energy he contained from flowing out of him down the chain.

"_Thank you for all your work. I am so grateful. Through you, I have not only escaped the Dark Prison, but also had a chance to observe the effects of SubSpace on creatures of Space. That some of them may absorb it and become stronger, while others are frozen by it – these things I now know."_

As the SubSpace continued to drain, Bowser shrank to his normal size and appearance, howling with cries that got weaker and higher. SubSpace from all around was filling his body, too gently and gradually to give him power. Time began to speed up around him. Only Tabuu's "voice" remained at a constant pace.

"_Good-bye, Bowser Koopa. Your statuette shall return to your castle, where your family and troops remain."_

Time continued to pass faster and faster, until…

The chain flashed out in a shimmering arc and flung the statuette around the planet, presumably back to Bowser's Castle.

_I made myself wings of matter, large and beautiful wings that suited the appearance of the god of this planet._

"_My soldiers," I said to them, and they inclined unto me and heard my words, "it is time. Begin your infinite march across the lands, collecting the strong figurines that they may form more clones. We will have an army beyond any other, an army of SubSpace for SubSpace!"_

_They began their march, my children (of sorts). Meanwhile, I would survey my domain. Now that I could not afford to waste energy it was sensible to maintain my matter form. Drinking in the SubSpace, I set off on a tour of the planet, beating my wings for my own amusement as I flew_ off over the horizon, leaving the LOL looking at an ever increasing march of heroes emerging from the portal.

They were very, very scared.

o o o

Clomp, clomp, clomp. Wireframe after wireframe emerged from the Gate of Souls, each one recognisable as a hero. There was Clone Pikachu, bursting with SubSpace-enhanced electricity; two Clone Ice Climbers had teamed up, swinging their wireframe mallets with undisguised glee; Clone Donkey Kong lumbered across the grass behind them, his giant fists dragging him along the ground; clones of all shapes and sizes marched unendingly from the Dark Prison.

"We have to do something," said Meta Knight at last.

"What do you suggest?" hissed the Captain. "There's thousands of heroes out there, and we couldn't take on one clone Mario!"

"Plus there's a blue guy with wings!" croaked a shivering Wario.

Sonic said nothing. For once in his life he was out of ideas. No weapon on the planet existed strong enough to wipe out both the blue angel and his purple infantry. Yet if they did nothing, their keys would fill up and they too would freeze, more instruments to be used in the cloning programme. Peach's bitter tears, which intermittently halted mid-descent, were a constant reminder of this.

"We need something more powerful than Taboo-oo," said Zelda, her voice shaking but still just about calm. "There are beings stronger than it in this world, if they will but listen to us!"

"Zelda," said Pit quietly, "has it ever occurred to you that your goddesses, believing that the beings in their kingdom should have free will, prefer to provide psychological help if they help at all?"

Zelda looked at him with a confused expression. "What do you mean?"

Clomp, clomp, clomp. No sound but the marching and Peach's tears. Suddenly Yoshi yelped.

"What's he saying?" clamoured six desperate voices at once.

"He suggests that the Hands may be able to beat Taboo-oo," said Meta Knight. "While separately each has failed, maybe together…"

"But look at them," said the Captain, pointing in the direction of the former creative and destructive spirits of Nintendo, now just more purple trophies. "How are they meant to fight the blue guy like that?"

Yoshi's downcast expression stated a lack of answer that required no translation.

"We power them up."

Despite the fact that he was standing in their midst, glowing bright yellow, the group had completely forgotten Shadow.

"With what?" asked the Captain. "The luminescent paint you used to decorate your fur?"

"Similar."

The group cottoned on at varying speeds. Sonic was one of the first to do so.

"Shadow," he said, "as soon as you expel the Emeralds, you won't be Super any more. You'll freeze in time before you can use them to power up the hands."

"Peach!"

Everyone turned towards Pit's squeal. Peach was sitting stock still, the pink vanishing from her dress and being replaced by a shade of lilac. The key she cradled to her chest was glowing purple. It was only for a moment: Peach jerked out of it with restored colours, looked around in confusion and then sobbed at changing speeds. The Captain sat down beside her and spread his arms over her shoulders.

Shadow looked at the embrace, then at the floor with gritted teeth. He seemed to be shaking slightly from his position just above the ground. Then, as if throwing off a spell, he charged forwards.

"Peach," he said quickly, "I want you to use the Chaos Emeralds to power up the Hands."

Peach looked at him with an expression of complete incomprehension. Shadow rolled his eyes.

"You absorb the power of the Emeralds, you cut through the purple army and get to the Hands. You release the Emeralds, and quickly push them into the Hands. The power of the Emeralds should do the rest for you."

Peach looked at him as if he was mad. "But if you give me the Emeralds…"

"WHY DOES EVERYBODY SEEM TO ASSUME I HAVEN'T CONSIDERED THIS?" yelled Shadow, hovering back to the ground in order to stamp his foot. "I don't even know what I'm doing here. I'm no member of the LOL. Now go out and save the world! That's what legends do, right?"

The brief silence was only broken by the sound of marching and Shadow's heavy breath.

"How do I activate them?" Peach asked quietly.

"Just take one and think of something you feel passionately about. I think of how much I hate Sonic."

There was a flash, and the Emeralds were raining down around a purple figurine of Shadow, faux contempt for all life stamped on his motionless features. Peach realised that everyone was looking at her. Moving in fits and starts, she lurched forward and picked up an indigo gem. Grasping it in her hand, she shut her eyes and concentrated.

She thought of her poor dear Mario, trapped inside the Dark Prison for over a year, floating unconscious in a suspended state and being used to create these awful clones! How she longed to see him again, to kiss him, to hold him without pushing a key into his neck! Dear, dear Mario!

She felt no different. No superpower, no feeling of might, just cold and strange and with the sound of breathing around her speeding up and slowing down. Disappointed, afraid and hyperventilating, she opened her eyes and looked into those of the Captain, who was kneeling down in front of her, peering anxiously at her face.

There was another flash.

o o o

_From my lofty post I looked down upon Nintendo. I floated in the furthest reaches of the SubSpace zone that surrounded the planet, so that any "higher" would have been painful to me. My dominion in this verse was below – one small sphere of semi-molten rock, hanging from its star by the fragile thread of gravity. I could have plucked it from its orbit myself and bull-dozed through other planets that way, but curiosity overcame my appetite for destruction. Was I not, after all, the first of my kind to explore a "space verse"? It would be a shame to destroy it. I wanted to investigate new worlds, not destroy them.  
_

_But as I looked upon my works, I felt something rather akin to a twinge – not within me, but within my domain. Something was changing down there, and it gave me what, if I had bothered to fashion a proper digestive system for myself, might have felt like a stomachache._

_I descended._

o o o

Peach had to restrain herself. It was so tempting, to whizz off skywards and fly! This was what it felt like to be Fox McCloud with his Arwing, or Mario with his cape, or the Captain with his Flyer! Ah, the Captain, that most wonderful of men. He had saved her from eternal frozen-ness, and better yet restored her dress to its pink and puffy state. What need had she for Mario? Wheeeee! This was fun!

But as she looked below her, she knew that recreational flight was not a viable option. The clones in her blossom-filled wake were sleeping peacefully, but that left thousands of soldiers watching her every move with malevolent intent. She had to relinquish this glorious feeling of power to save the world. She only hoped the others knew how much she was giving up for them.

Swooping down in a flurry of flowers, she landed beside the incapacitated Hands. Incredible, to think that she would be the one to save the legendary creative and destructive spirits of Nintendo from oblivion. She leapt towards them, and released the Emeralds.

She had tried to aim them in a stream directed at the fallen Hands. Instead they toppled to the ground like seven drunkards, and she followed suit. Looking over her shoulder, the tide behind her were sweeping over, getting faster and faster. Panting, she scooped up the Emeralds and ran desperately over to the Hands.

"Falcon PUNCH!"

A Kirby clone was knocked into the air, its purple body blazing merrily. The army stopped briefly to assess the new threat, leaving Peach with grateful tears drenching her cheeks as she clambered with difficulty on top of the rock-solid Hands. But now they were coming towards her again, the nippy Pikachu clones in front shooting lightning that just fell short. Peach ducked under laser fire from Foxes and Falcos and pressed the jewels into the open palm of the Master Hand.

Shadow had said that the Emeralds should do the rest. So why did the army keep getting faster? The inflating Kirbies, the leaping Marios, the tightly dressed Samuses all pressed on towards her, their red masks staring into her soul, speeding up, and up, and up…

"_What is this?"_

And now they were normal speed again, and she was sitting on soft, white material, and there was a bald blue man not twenty feet away staring at her; except it was no longer a blue man but had reformed into a large blue spearhead that launched itself at Peach, who weakly shielded her face.

"_KAYAAAAAAAAH!"_

Now it was a man again, barely a metre away, thrashing about as if being electrocuted.

THERE IS A SPHERE OF SPACE AROUND US. WE MUST HURRY – TIME IS SHORT.

No longer making any attempt to understand what was going on, Peach watched as the left Hand emerged from under the right and punched into the first rank of the clones, sending several soaring over the heads of their comrades and reducing a few to purple dust. Then it flew with its partnet over the heads of the army, Peach still clasped in the Master Hand's fist.

CAN YOU FORGIVE ME, SIBLING? said the Master Hand. AFTER ALL I'VE DONE?

IT WAS NOT YOU, SIBLING. YOU WERE NOT YOURSELF.

_These despots had barred my way for too long, declaring that I was forbidden from their world. I would not let them hinder me any further. _ _I spread my wings wide for effect and emitted large red waves that would fill them with SubSpace on impact._

The Master Hand countered with waves of space that briefly restored colour to the medium they travelled through. They slowed, but did not stop, the red circles. Peach made a horrified choking noise as the waves dissipated inches from them, becoming part of the medium through which they travelled. This was a creature more powerful than the Hands, its one weakness being that it could only travel through SubSpace.

The Hands landed safely enough on the far side of the army. The Master Hand set Peach down and formed a dome of space over the LOL, deflecting Tabuu's explosive projectiles. The Crazy Hand faced the oncoming army, who had rushed over to Peach and the Hands en masse and were now rushing back.

YOU WOULD SAVE THIS WORLD? boomed the Master Hand.

Dumbstruck, the LOL nodded together.

MAYBE YOU CAN. I FEEL THAT WE, THE ORIGINAL CREATOR AND DESTROYER OF NINTENDO, DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH STRENGTH.

The Crazy Hand writhed on the ground, creating earthquakes that sent the clones tumbling away.

BUT YOU EIGHT… YOU CAN TRY, ANYWAY. YOU MUST DESTROY THE LARGE TOWERS IN HYRULE AND THE MUSHROOM KINGDOM, AND WIPE THE SUBSPACE FROM THIS PLANET. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

They nodded again, with a bit more determination this time. Behind them, the Crazy Hand was leapt upon by a bunch of clones.

TIME IS BRIEF. MY SIBLING CAN ONLY HOLD THEM FOR SO LONG. TAKE THESE. THEY REPRESENT THE LAST OF MY ENERGY, AND THAT OF THE GEMS OF POWER.

"Chaos Emeralds," whispered Sonic.

The Master Hand turned his palm upwards, clenched his fist and released a multicoloured ball of energy. Then again, and again, and every time it released a ball it relaxed, visibly exhausted. By the sixth ball, it could barely lift its fingers, and the Crazy Hand, impaled upon the blades of a clone Link and clone Marth, was writhing in its death throes.

OUR TIME… IS DONE… gasped the Master Hand, creating the seventh ball with massive difficulty. BREAK... THE BALLS… AND UNLOCK… THE POWERS WITHIN…

A golden chain stabbed through the Hand. There was an explosion and the Hand was no more, leaving a final ball flying in its place.

"Smash them!" yelled Sonic.

As the clones bore down, and Tabuu charged up another attack, the LOL rose into the air like larks and set upon the balls. Sonic grabbed his and pierced it on his spikes. The shiny rainbow surface burst open in a blaze of coloured light.

"How much power did those hands contain?" said Sonic in wonder, as he floated back to earth, glowing yellow.

He was the first to descend, while above him an eruption of colours was taking place, emitting heroes. The Captain was dressed in red and orange costume, his head decorated with blazing orange plumage and two massive feathery wings, burning brightly, erupting from his back. Meta Knight was hardly visible, a rippling shadow bearing a sword that glowed bright yellow. Pit had hair green like Palutena's, and everything else that could be turned gold had turned gold. Zelda glowed green, red and blue, bearing in her arms a massive bow that put Pit's to shame. Yoshi had retrieved his wings and fire breath from the island battle, while Wario was Warioman once more, in a costume that was slightly too large for his new body shape.

That left one sphere unclaimed, floating just above head height. Turning, they saw Peach, a statuette gazing up with golden base. After the Master Hand's defeat, her key had given up the ghost and she alone was now helpless against the oncoming onslaught, not five metres away. A Mario clone let loose a vicious fireball at the statue's head. Thinking quickly, the Captain grabbed the figurine, surprisingly light for its size, and hurled it upwards. It hit the ball, which smashed on impact and revealed an animated Peach, floating in the air, trailing blossoms and looking slightly confused.

"_So, the Hands decided to make a futile farewell gesture?" I said, amused by the ragtag group of misfits standing before me. "Pathetic. They had not enough power to save themselves, let alone..."_

As the wave of clones hit, Pit flapped his burnished wings. The unexpected and violent gust flung the clones backwards into each other, while their master looked on expressionlessly.

_It appeared that I had underestimated the Hands. Or maybe there was something in the right one's claim that the balls they made were simply keys for unlocking the power within. It was an interesting phenomenon, and one that merited further study once this little hiccough had been dealt with. I spread my wings._

"_Impressive enough," I said, "but let's see how you deal with some more Off Waves." The name was my own, and a fitting one._

Three red waves sprung from the blue body, this time with no SubSpace Keys or space to absorb the impact. They rippled straight through the clones, turning them into purple smoke where they stood, and headed for the LOL.

"Take cover!" yelled Pit.

The waves hit Wario, who was standing at the front, and ceded harmlessly. One, two, three waves broke against his podgy body. He looked at Tabuu with an unimpressed expression.

_A very interesting phenomenon indeed. I wondered why..._

"Shut UP!"

Warioman's fist thudded into the bald head, knocking the blue figure to the ground in the middle of his army.

"I am SICK and TIRED of you narrating everything you do!" yelled Wario.

_Was this... pain?_

"Yes it was!" Wario turned to the LOL, eyes like iron beneath the lycra mask. "It's time to end this. Peach, you fly to the Mushroom Kingdom and take out the one tower. Zelda, get onto Yoshi and take the other. Pit, Falcon, go with them. Sonic..."

"I'm the one who's the unofficial leader!"

"Oh like I care. You and Meta Knight, stop that cloning process and free the heroes."

Zelda looked astonished. "But what will you..."

"NOW, you dumb shits!"

They were not used to Wario being authoritative, but with the more muscular figure and lack of garlic breath he managed to pull it off. Peach and the Captain flew off in one direction, while Zelda mounted Yoshi and shot off in the other, Pit flying close behind. Sonic and Meta Knight headed for the oak.

"And as for you..."

_The one in the purple-pink clothing turned to me, his eyes filled with..._

"OH ENOUGH WITH THE MONOLOGUES ALREADY!"


	19. 8 Vice iii

Her flight over the battlefield had given her a taste of the speed and freedom offered by the Chaos Emeralds. If anything, the ball's power seemed to exceed the Emeralds', and raining a trail of pink petals down upon the lilac landscape Peach broke the sound barrier without even realising as she soared over her former dominion.

It seemed too easy – and of course it was. As she continued to fly, the sky in front seemed to roll up like a carpet. Peach felt her flight speed slow to treacle as time and SubSpace warped in front of her to prevent her from reaching her goal.

"Looks like Wario couldn't keep Bluey occupied for long enough!" she cried.

"Phoenix PUNCH!"

Not only did the flames and lightning springing from the Captain's yellow-gloved fist take the shape of a bird, they opened their wings and grew until they were larger than his wingspan before charging at the rippling reality ahead. Time creaked, SubSpace shattered and the way ahead was straight once more, the bird dispersing with a cry.

"What did you just do?" asked Peach.

"I don't quite know," said the Captain, looking confused, "but I think I might have straightened out space-time."

There it was. The tower in its finished state was smaller than the Bowser Power Tower by a few stories, but it was the large glowing purple orb at the top that gave it away. As Peach and the Captain got closer, they heard the ominous humming sound signalling that the orb was emitting SubSpace into the air.

"Peach," said the Captain, "would you care to do the honours?"

Peach smiled grimly and swooped in. The orb was really huge, a twenty metre-high colossus of a sphere, its inside dark and tumultuous as if it held a cyclone of oil. How was she meant to bring down something like that? Peach gave the glass an experimental tap, blossom springing from her fingers. Then she ascended to the top of the tower, landed gently on the orb and put her hands to the ground.

She pulled upwards. Something was emerging from the glass, at first a small shoot that, as she continued to tug it out, started to develop leaves. The trunk became thicker, and roots began to grow, snaking through the glass. Floating now, Peach continued to pull by the top branch. Green leaves turned to bright pink blossoms, lighting the tree up against the unending purple, until the blossoms fell and covered the orb, now with roots covering the entirety of its surface. Former flowers swelled through green to red, forming large ripe peaches that reached their maximum size just as the structural integrity of the root-ridden sphere failed and the tree fell through the broken glass into the whirlwind of SubSpace below.

The raging purple mist blew out in all directions, swiftly fading away and leaving nothing in the remnants of the orb but the tree, now latching onto the top of the building. A wave of colour began to move over the landscape. Peach saw the skyscraper turn from purple to grey, the roads below too, the sky becoming blue again. She and the Captain watched in awe as space spread back over the world and SubSpace faded away.

"Impressive," said the Captain, nodding sagely. "Nice use of botany."

"Thank you," said Peach, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. She held up a furry round fruit. "Would you like a peach?"

A sly smile. "You bet I would."

He grabbed her wrist. The fruit was dropped and toppled to the ground below, scattering its innards over a wide radius, ignored by the passionately kissing couple in the sky.

o o o

Racing in the other direction, Zelda held on tight to the polychromatic Yoshi, wearing a determined expression as his white feathery wings bore them through the purple skies. The Hylian princess gripped the dinosaur's neck with one arm and her bow with the other, a quiver of glowing arrows strung across her back.

"Watch out in front!" she yelled.

The SubSpace was twisting itself into hard purple spears, which flew at the rider and mount. Instead of shredding Yoshi's wings and sending the two of them to a quick demise, they bounced off a golden wall of light. From behind his Mirror Shield, now emitting a golden glow, Pit flew on golden feathers, a broad smile etched on his golden face.

"Mom, can you see me now?" he yelled.

"Who's his mother?" asked Zelda. Yoshi shrugged.

The spikes continued to buzz into the shield like angry bees, and in front of them the SubSpace was hardening into a large purple plate, blocking the way to Hyrule Castle Town and the massive tower that stretched above it. How had the people not noticed it? Zelda wondered. It was smaller and made of simpler materials than its Mushroom Kingdom equivalent, but still bore the large purple orb on top.

"We'll never make it!" cried Pit, as the plate solidified in place.

Zelda gripped Yoshi tightly between her thighs, pulled an arrow from the quiver and notched it as if she had done so every day of her life. Squinting down the shaft, she let go with minimum flair. The white arrow whizzed through the air, through the SubSpikes, through the purple plate, through the sky and through the glass orb, shattering it into a million radiant shards.

"Nice shot," said a stunned Pit, as space began its journey back across the planet.

"The goddesses guided my arrow," said Zelda, smiling serenely, "and it shot true and smote my foes. Yoshi, back to the battle!"

"You know," said Yoshi, as he wheeled in mid-air, "I am able to make decisions on my own, and I was aware of the need to return and help."

"That's nice Yoshi."

o o o

"_AaaaaaaAAAAaaaAAA__**AAAAARGH!**__"_

Wario looked up. Barely five seconds ago, Tabuu had been beating seven shades of purple out of him. Even as Warioman, he was no match – Tabuu just became pure energy and burnt, deafened or shocked him, or returned to matter form behind his back and slapped him silly. But now, the blue creature was grasping his face and trembling, sparks flying from his form.

That was not the only change. The soil beneath him felt softer, warmer, more like actual soil. Looking around, he saw the clones no longer as purple wireframes but as hero replicas again, and from their blank expressions he realised that they were as confused as he was. Most tellingly of all, everything had stopped being purple.

"_**AAAAAAGHAAAAAA!**__"_

Tabuu shot skywards, black flames now springing from his body. Warioman turned his attention to the clones around him, and punched a Falco experimentally. It flew satisfyingly into the oak tree, hitting the trunk with a thump and sliding down onto Super Sonic's head.

"Guess what we did!" he yelled.

"He smashed all the machines haphazardly, putting the lives of the heroes at risk," sighed a shadowy Meta Knight beside him.

"Oh whatevs. Let's kick some clone butt!"

He and Meta Knight flew into the fray, and as they did and a Chibi-Link hacked ineffectually at Wario's iron form, something else emerged from the portal. It could have been a Popo clone, but it was too wet and too bedraggled to look like it was capable of any fighting. It was followed by a Nana, looking equally sodden. The two glimpsed each other, gave tired squeaks of delight and embraced tightly.

"They're free!" Wario yelled, tossing the Link miles into the air in joy. Finally, his hard work as a villain was being undone.

A bedraggled Ivysaur with a sagging bud was next, followed by a Charizard with a pathetically small flame springing from its tail and a Squirtle that looked like it was waking up from a long nap. Then they all crowded around the form of Red, lacking any form of cockiness and with a drooping cap to match. A ball of purple magic followed, dispersing on contact with the air as Ganondorf's experiments with Link's "inner child" reached their conclusion. Then Link himself, then Donkey Kong, then Ness, all wet and tired but, most importantly, outside the prison.

While the heroes came out the LOL came back, and were soon setting about the now finite army of clones with gusto. This was helped by the fact that to all intents and purposes the LOL were currently invulnerable. This was certainly true of Sonic, whose yellow glow deflected any and all attacks while throwing foes into the air; Wario, whose body repelled everything effortlessly; and Meta Knight, past whom all assaults seemed to slip, while Galaxia sliced through all comers as if they were water. Pit almost fell into his category, as while he could theoretically be hurt any attempted attack would just miss, or the clone would get a reflection in its eye at the last moment, leaving it open to a blade in the gut that would cause it to burst apart in golden sparkles.

As for the others, they did not have much opportunity to feel pain as they spent most of their time airborne. The Captain flapped over the battlefield on wings that set anything they touched on fire, while his fists turned anything they smote to quivering jelly. Zelda continued to ride on Yoshi, raining her supply of shining arrows down upon the field like a particularly vicious hailstorm while her steed supplemented the hail with fireballs. Peach provided more of a support role, drizzling blossom over opponents that sent them to sleep or throwing tasty peaches to her allies.

And then the balls ran out.

If becoming Super felt like being drunk, only without the lack of co-ordination and with the power of flight, then what the LOL were experiencing now was the feeling of sobering up sharply because something has happened like, say, someone vomiting over your shoes, and that someone is Bowser, and his vomit is fire. Those who were airborne dropped gracelessly into the army below. Those who were on the ground stared around them in terror. The clones only took a few seconds to realise they had the advantage again.

In his last moments, as a Marth raised his sword above Sonic's eyes and a Kirby's laser whip circled around his legs, Sonic wondered what beasts on his home planet would say of him. Would he be thought of as a great hero? Would Dr. Robotnik be sad, in a way, to lose his arch-nemesis? And what about the rest of the galaxy? Would they recall the loss of the great hedgehog warrior with fondness? Surely they wouldn't forget him altogether, the one who had travelled between planets on foot? Surely not.

"Sonic."

Sonic screamed like a little girl.

"You scream like a little girl," said Shadow with a pained smirk.

"Do not! And what are you doing in the middle of the brawl?"

"I'm using Chaos Control without a Chaos Emerald," Shadow hissed. "It's very difficult, so shut up and listen up."

Sonic looked at the sword, hanging still in the air above his face.

"Before the waves of SubSpace hit, Snake and I thought up a plan to help you when you got out," said Shadow, panting. "Using the Emeralds to warp around the world, we found groups of people who might help us. I used Chaos Power to transport them here, hiding just out of sight, beyond those hills."

Sonic smiled. "That's..."

"I TOLD you to SHUT IT. Now, I'm going to restart time again very soon, and when I do I want you not to be surprised. All right? Don't be surprised."

"All right, I get it!"

Shadow nodded. "Good. Restarting in three... two..."

Sonic stepped away from the laser whip and blade, just in case.

"One... and we're on air!"

An arrow whistled into the forehead of the Marth clone, who staggered briefly before dissolving. Sonic leapt over the whip with a cry, eyes like soup plates.

"Damnit Sonic I said DON'T be surprised!"

In fact, the war horn that went off seconds later surprised everyone, LOL and clones alike, except Shadow. Leaving themselves open to attack, they gazed at the small band of soldiers running over the hill, their blue-haired leader charging with a face like thunder.

"Greil Mercenaries, attack!"

"Not us, though!" yelled Wario over the noise. "Don't attack us!"

Then he was set upon by a Samus and a Squirtle, who were both blown into mist before his eyes. Snake shouldered his missile launcher casually and punched an oncoming Ivysaur in the face with a knowing smile.

"All behind the banner of the aura!"

From another direction, the blue form of Lucario was marching, backed by a phalanx of furious looking Pokémon. The inflated figure of Jigglypuff carried a small yellow rodent with a massive head, eyeing the battle warily, on its hair curl. Mewtwo was the first to reach the battlefield, blowing apart two Donkey Kongs with its mind before they could lay a finger on it. At the same time, Ike reached the outskirts of the mêlée, where he was set upon by a Marth and a Link.

"All yours."

He stepped aside, leaving the Marth to blunder into the point of Lyn's blade.

"Got you," she said with a grin.

What a wonderful sight it was for the beleaguered League to see their allies pouring from every angle! Still severely outnumbered, the constant influx of reinforcements gave them hope, and distracted the clones long enough for them to extract themselves from the worst of the fighting. Indeed, each member of the LOL felt that certain reinforcements had arrived specifically for him/her:

-The Captain gave a bellow of joy when, flanked by the three Arwings of the remains of the Starfox team, the pink hippopotamic monstrosity that was the Fire Stingray slid into view. Standing atop it was Saki, gun-blade in hand and sniping and swiping with gusto;

-Besides the many Pokémon, Yoshi squealed when a stampede of Yoshis, led by the purple might of David, rushed towards the foe with egg grenades in one hand and fruit for the battle in the other;

-Pit was pleased enough when the Saturn Pork Bean, awkwardly piloted by a dozen or so bickering Mr. Saturns, sliced through the clone army. He was overjoyed when a multicoloured troop of Pikmin, seemingly under the command of Brewster, charged into view, grabbed the clones and refused to let go. When the winged centurions came down from heaven, he forgot himself completely and whooped;

-Meta Knight did not stop fighting for even a second, but beneath his mask he allowed himself a warm glow upon the appearance of the mini-Halberd. There was obvious evidence of a quick patch-up job, but it was still well prepared to rain down laser death;

-Zelda had to content herself with Midna, swooping down from the heavens in a blur of particles and lock lips with Wario, at the same time wrapping several clones in shadowy magic that made them explode soon afterwards;

-Peach could not quite be disappointed when Diddy Kong appeared on his Barrel Train, shooting at the clones. Even the appearance of the other Kongs, hooting and screeching and firing crude wooden guns of their own, could not dampen her spirits. The appearance of that cocky upstart Daisy, driving her pathetic plumber boyfriend in a Double Dash kart and hurling hollowed-out Koopa shells at the clones, was the faeces-flavoured icing on the mouldy cake that still failed to sadden her;

-A multitude of R.O.B.s jetted over the horizon, firing lasers and swiping with their arms.

"I promised them study grants if they helped," Shadow told Sonic while running from a barrage of fireballs. "That and escape from SubSpace."

The mighty roar that heralded the arrival of the Ultimate Chimera, with Lucas using telekinesis and swinging his beam sword from its back, seemed to complete the arrival of the backup brigade. Sonic, for a moment out of the fray, took a moment to smile to himself. They had fighters by the dozen, and the heroes would join in when they had recovered from their imprisonment. Surely with this army on their side they could not lose. He turned once more onto the battle, dodged the fist of a Mario clone and looked at the new state of affairs in horror.

Even counting all the R.O.B.s, Yoshis, Pikmin and GMs, they were still no more than six hundred of them, fighting perhaps four times that many hero clones. Was it really so surprising that even now so few had been prepared to go up against what they thought was the LOVE? Sonic recalled the fight with Mario in the Dark Prison, a powered-up Mario that had taken six of them, the LOL, down without stopping for breath. A cold sweat emerging on his brow, Sonic realised that they were sending the army to their deaths.

"Stop!" he yelled, avoiding another Mario haymaker. "Everyone, get out of here!"

He was not Super any more. Nobody heard him. He could only stand and watched as Olimar grabbed two Pikmin, so happy to see him again, and tore off their limbs; as two Donkey Kongs pulled a Yoshi from opposite ends until its head was tugged from its body; as a group of Nesses united to subjugate the might of Mewtwo beneath their psychic power, making it bleed from the eyes until its fragile skull shattered like pottery.

Sonic stared aghast as the thin purple form, pinkish blood gushing from its neck, slumped to the floor. One of the most powerful Pokémon in the world, destroyed without a moment's thought. This was not only a group of powered-up clones: this was a group of utterly unscrupulous powered-up clones, which is why Boney was being blasted over and over again by giggling Samuses, and why the little yellow daughter of Pikachu was surrounded by three clones of her father, bearing unfriendly smiles and tiny but visible erections.

"**Attention, clone army and bald blue guy."**

Peach knew that crackling voice so well. No amount of electrical interference could disguise the sound of an angry king of the Koopas. And it was _booming_.

There was another global turning of heads. The voice was coming from a gigantic warp pipe, erupting from the ground with its massive mouth turned towards the battlefield.

"**This is Bowser Koopa speaking, ** **and he is so pissed about being cast aside like a piece of rubbish that he is going to blow you all to hell."**

From the dark mouth of the pipe emerged an obese behemoth of a craft, one large enough to rival the Great Fox or the Halberd, although its design strongly suggested it to be much more unwieldy than either. It was large, green and round, and Bowser's face stared out from the front. The pipe was large enough not only to spit this vehicle out, but also surround it with several of the Koopa Airtanks used in the first attack on Yoshi's Island. Then more, and then more, and then a few more emerged from the mouth. It was clear that the LOL had only experienced a fraction of the Koopas' artillery. This was the real deal.

"**Thank you and good night."**

Thousands of cannons aimed at the clones, milling about uncertainly on and around the hill. A particularly large one came out of the Bowser face's jaws, and tilted down on a pivot.

"Everyone get out of here!" yelled Sonic.

This time, with the deadly silence that had fallen, they heard him. Some did not hear him early enough. A combination of bullets, bombs, shells, explosives, lasers, grenades, rockets, Bob-Ombs and Bullet Bills poured down from the heavens upon those beneath, butchering ally and clone alike. The real heroes were safe, still recovering under the oak, but the LOL, mixed in with the army, were in trouble.

Sonic and the Captain ran as fast as their legs would propel them. Pit and Meta Knight took to the air and winged their way clumsily between the falling debris. Zelda warped out of the danger zone, Midna evacuated Wario in the same way and Yoshi jostled out in an egg. That left Peach, surrounded by two Marios and a Link who had been quite literally caught with their trousers down.

"Aloha, Princess."

Peach turned sharply, to find her scaly orange nemesis standing in the firing zone holding a microphone. Before she could comment or object, she was being swept up by his brawny arm and borne away.

"Get your clammy paws off me!" Peach screamed.

"Scales don't get clammy."

Peach twisted awkwardly in Bowser's armpit so that she was facing up. It was terrifying. She was looking into a sky that seemed to be falling apart into many explosive pieces. Bombs descended upon her face, looking almost certain to hit until Bowser jogged to one side. This would drag her into the path of another descending implement of death, until Bowser changed tack again. Sometimes she saw heads or limbs being propelled across her line of vision – otherwise she just heard the yells and smelt the blood.

But none of this was the most terrifying thing about her viewpoint. That would be the giant black orb, floating still above the Koopa fleet and growing ever so slightly. Peach gasped.

"Seen it, have you?" said Bowser, as the skies began to clear of debris. "That's Taboo-oo, that is. Someone probably ought to stop him."

She felt her orientation change, and saw two massive cream lips. Bowser was cradling her in his arms. It was not a nice feeling.

"You're the League of Legends. Do something legendary."

It was as if she had all the weight of a paper plane. Bowser had hurled her out of the danger zone, towards where the rest of the LOL were standing, away from the armageddon. The clones were ignoring them now, busy enough as they were avoiding death. For the second time, she realised that the Chaos Emeralds had restored her old dress. Catching the air in her skirt, she floated down to where the others stood, and then turned back to look at what she had left behind.

"It's ghastly," said Zelda.

"Barbaric," agreed Meta Knight.

Peach said nothing, but as Ike flew out of the fracas as well and landed on his face she had to give Bowser some credit. His methods were heavy handed, but what might the alternative have been?

"Never mind about the battle," she said, pointing upwards. "Bowser has that. _That's_ our job."

It reminded her of a great black eye, a giant staring down at the world below with malicious intent, if the giant had been growing slowly and threatening in a quiet understated way to swallow the planet in something potentially worse than SubSpace. None of them knew what it was, this strange black substance that Tabuu seemed to be excreting – the only agreement was that it was unlikely to mean a positive change in their fortunes.

"Any ideas as to how we get up there?" asked Sonic.

Meta Knight opened his mouth, and then shut it again. The mini-Halberd had been over the fray when Bowser's troops flew above it, and was lucky to have escaped as a burning wreck.

"It is at times like this when..." began Zelda.

"Zelda, not now," said Sonic. "Unless your Farry's Wind can carry us all inside the sphere, the goddesses can't help us. Not with this."

A moment of silent (modulo all the explosions and wails and zaps) reflection.

"Actually," said Pit, "maybe they can..."

o o o

"So when you said you were in the goddess Pallywhatsy's bodyguard," said an astonished Sonic, "you were telling the truth?"

Pit grinned broadly. "Yup!"

Pit was slowly rising towards the sphere in a column of light, summoned from heaven by a short prayer. Around him, his friends were being carried by a few of Palutena's soldiers apiece. The Captain was hovering beside him, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Captain of a goddess' army?" he said softly. "That's... that's pretty cool, Pit. Pretty cool."

Pit chuckled. Then he looked conspiratorially from side to side, and whispered, "My full name isn't Pit."

"No?"

"No. My mom told me. It's _Petraeus_."

The Captain almost jumped out of the hands of his carriers. "P-Petraeus?"

"It's not a stupid name!" said Pit, bristling.

"No no! It's a great name! You... You must have had a great mother to give you such a cool name!"

Pit nodded. "Better than my father. He ran off before I was born. Selfish jerk."

"You don't know that!" said the Captain in outraged tones. "He might just have thought that... that having relations with a mortal would have shamed her! He might have left her for her own good!"

Pit wore a bewildered expression. "How do you know he felt? Have you ever had relations with a goddess?"

"Don't be stupid!" said the Captain, looking straight ahead. "'Relations with a goddess' indeed!"

Pit continued to look baffled. Yoshi, being carried just below Pit, shook his head and despaired at how oblivious humans could be.

The beam of light lifted Pit gently towards the black sphere, its oily iridescent surface gleaming in the morning sun. They were worlds away now from the chaos of the bombardment, and yet the sphere seemed to contain more chaos than anywhere else, trapped like the orbs atop the towers had trapped their SubSpace cyclones.

Gulping, Pit leapt from the beam of light towards the sphere, flapping once, twice and then the darkness was on him, clinging to his skin, enveloping him in the sound of a thousand voices, laughing crying screaming yelling while the black sucked at him, slipping over his clothes like a never-ending sea that suddenly ended and he was through, standing on a black platform in the sphere.

All was black and wet. The floor seemed solid enough, but it was over above the viscous goo, flowing above and around the angel. It emitted a strange grey light, as well as the emotional overflow Pit had heard – nay, felt – on his way in. Yoshi landed beside him, followed by the Captain, who shook his head and blinked rapidly.

"That's some crazy shit in there," he said. "Sounds like Tabuu's gone insane."

Pit shrugged. "I've been through worse. And at least it's not SubSpace in here."

The others came through, one by one, each shivering slightly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Meta Knight, "welcome to the hell of Tabuu's mind."

Pit shrugged again. This was nothing compared to Giygas' emotional torment. Tabuu needed to man up.

They walked slowly along the platform, the noises of emotional hysteria accompanying them as they went. Their environment smelt musty, as if locked away for thousands and thousands of years. Occasionally one of them would hear some recognisable words from the oil – Wario swore that he heard "_Forbidden_" a couple of times, but none of the others could confirm.

No endless distortion of SubSpace, this. It was simply a path, curling inwards to the centre of Tabuu's little world. As they neared it, one voice of the many did grow more audible, sobbing hysterically. As they closed in, rounding a wall of glowing oil to find the cyan figure of Tabuu curled into a ball, the cries stopped, became a long hysterical laugh and then restarted again.

They stood for some time on the lip of the platform, jutting out over a pool of oil, and indeed under another. Between these pools Tabuu hovered, his humanoid form shaking as he sobbed. No member of the LOL wanted to attract his attention, risking drawing an attack, but if they did nothing his emotions might engulf the planet.

At length Sonic coughed. "Excuse me..."

Suddenly Tabuu was huge, his head three times the size of any of them, his chin level with their feet. His face filled their vision. Bright red eyes burned into their minds.

"_So, you came," I said, as a large fat energy tear burst from my eye and dissipated into space._

The LOL looked at each other, wondering not for the first time why this creature insisted on narrating his exploits and telling them about his bodily functions.

"_I thought you would," I said, looking at their questioning faces. "Look at what I've done! I've conquered space! I'm living in space! Nothing is forbidden to me!"_ He broke off for another hysterical laughing fit, ending in a heavy sob.

"Not really," said Sonic. "This is a giant ball of emotional goop. And, er, it looks like it's going to engulf the world."

"_Emotions!" I said, my eyes turning to the heavens. "How you people deal with them so easily I do not know. _ _SubSpace, in its unchanging nature, does not yield emotions. __They are so painful! They sear my mind! But I have conquered them at last. Now they form this glorious orb, an orb which..."_

"He's insane," said the Captain, as Tabuu eulogised the virtues of his orb. "He won't stop. What do we do?"

"We give him two choices," said Peach, dangling off the Captain's arm. "He can get out of here, or we take him out. He's weak now."

_They whispered amongst themselves, not sharing my awe._

"We know what we're doing," said Sonic angrily. "We don't need you to narrate our own conversation!"

_Sonic said, his eyes burning with emotion._

"Stop it!"

"_But if I don't, who will record the story when it is done? Not you. You'll be too dead!" he cheered, shrinking to normal size and spreading his wings in preparation for..._

Sonic had stopped listening to the rambling narrative. Twice those deadly wings had spread, each time releasing red circles of the kind that had reduced them to statues in the prison. Three times now they had faced the waves; three times they had been protected by something or someone. Now there was nothing between them and becoming eight trophies, cast aside into the oil, seen nevermore.

_...charged up energy his wings, feeling waves of happiness and despair break upon his soul – his soul, yes! He had one, he could feel it at last! It beat within his breast where his heart was not..._

Sonic began to spin. He sincerely hoped that Tabuu was too absorbed in his soliloquy to notice.

_...the energy ready, he spread his arms..._

Not as charged as he might have hoped. Ah well. The time to act is now. We should do this again some time.

The buzzing blue ball span off the lip, flying through space. To Sonic, it seemed as interminable as his flight to Nintendo. As Tabuu's wings glowed red, the hedgehog impacted with the right wing. There was a sound like breaking glass, and then it was glowing fragments that floated gently down into the oil. As Tabuu turned and yelled, Sonic bounced off thin air, giving him enough height and manoeuvrability to smash the other wing in the same manner.

_What have you done?_

Sonic uncurled, his momentum spent. He would drop now, drop into the emotion oil. Maybe he would drown there. Maybe he would fall through the bottom of the sphere and shatter on the grass below. Whatever. It didn't matter any more. He looked at the LOL, disappearing upwards out of sight, with a smile. See you later, guys. Or not.

A gold chain wrapped around his waist. The whiplash was massively painful but not lethal. He found himself being lifted, grabbed and now Tabuu was angrily manipulating neurons all up in his face.

_YOU LITTLE SHRIMP! YOU TINY, UNIMPORTANT PIECE OF DIRT! HOW DARE YOU..._

He stopped, holding Sonic by the throat as if weightless.

_This is... anger!_

The arrow hit Tabuu in one red eye. Then the Captain had Falcon Punched him in the arm. Tabuu screamed and dropped Sonic, who was whisked back onto his feet by Yoshi's elastic tongue.

_And this is... surprise!_

"That's for being a boring narrator!" shouted the Captain.

_And this feeling I hold towards you..._

He looked down at the LOL, fists clenched, hearts beating, fight or flight foremost in their minds.

_Towards you pathetic, small creatures, thinking you can destroy my vision... Is it... disgust?_

The peach hit him in the face. It was slightly overripe and burst on impact, leaving juice trails that wended their ways down the glowing cheek.

_Oh it is __on__._

Then he was teleporting around them, flickering from one place to another. Then there were eight of him, charging at his opponents, each displaying a different emotion. Sonic barely avoided the angry rage of Tabuu's powerful slaps, while the Captain was dodging tears that stung like needles.

"Which one's the real one?" said Wario, punching at a clone that gave a shocked gasp every time it dodged a fist.

"They all are!" said Zelda, fending off the manic slashing of a laughing Tabuu.

They backed down onto the larger platforms, where there was less danger of being oiled. Golden chains were flung through the air, bouncing anyone they caught off the floor; and red rings, a lot less powerful now, shot out in all directions. Each Tabuu had also brought a pink blade to the party, as well as several varieties of explosive, and combined with the laughs, sobs, gasps and growls of the clones the emotions emanating from the oil were quite drowned out.

Meta Knight growled in frustration at a Tabuu who seemed to anticipate and dodge every swipe and every stab with ease. It danced around him, breath permanently bated, waiting all the while. Pit was reduced to sniping at his Tabuu, as it screamed and teleported frantically around the platform. Yoshi had a similar problem, except his Tabuu just jumped near the others, trusting that their attacks would hit the dinosaur.

Peach's Tabuu was the first to fold. He seemed to barely notice her, looking down his non-existent nose at her and tossing out the occasional attack while remaining well back. It was if he did not want to dirty his hands by touching the insect in the pink dress, who on the contrary was quite happy to touch him with her golf club. The drive hit the clone right in the crude organs, sending it snapping sharply back into the Captain's assailant.

After that, the chain ran by itself. The Captain's clone broke down into hysterical sobs, leaving his back open to a Falcon Punch that snapped it into Wario's clone, who seemed so very astonished by the new turn of events that he was easy pickings for a haymaker to the midriff. He in turn snapped into Pit's clone, who went from running around screaming to petrified, fixed to the spot. An arrow through the head sent him flying into Yoshi's Tabuu, who was thrown off balance into the path of an exploding projectile he had been trying to lure Yoshi towards, and who joined up with Zelda's giggling adversary.

Meanwhile, Sonic was fleeing from the heavy rain of explosives, lasers, chains and red rings that the angry clone sent his way, causing the clone to make more and more frustrated noises and become sloppier with his attacks. Finally he gave up, threw his arms down and had a screaming temper tantrum, which only ended when Sonic buzz-sawed through his chest. The clone joined up with Meta Knight's foe, who lost his intense concentration for the iota of a second that was necessary for Galaxia to find an opening and embed itself in his heart. Then he too joined up with the happy clone, fighting off the entire LOL with a continuous series of red rings and guffawing all the time.

_All the other emotions have fallen, but so what? This is the best one! It makes me feel warm inside! My sphere shall be filled with this "happiness", and when it engulfs the world everyone shall be happy too! HA HA HA!_

The sounds coming from the oil changed. The sobs, bellows, gasps all faded away, replaced by only laughter, getting steadily louder and louder. The oil faded from black to red.

_Red is a happy colour! It makes me happy! HA HA HA!_

"Let's finish this before I get seriously creeped out!" shouted Sonic.

_Finish happiness? But why would you want to? It makes me feel SO GOOD!_

The red oil rose in torrents from below, forming swirling columns that wrapped themselves around Tabuu, heaving with crazed mirth.

_So happy! SO HAPPY!_

"Din's Fyre!"

Oil or not, the fluid was certainly flammable. The flames licked hungrily up the columns, setting Tabuu ablaze. It was hard to tell whether he noticed or not – he kept laughing, on and on and on, as the entirety of his liquid sphere ignited around him.

"Well done Zelda!" yelled Peach over the crackling flames and cackling Tabuu. "You've just doomed us all!"

"I didn't think this one through..." conceded Zelda.

_Join me! Join me in the inferno of happiness! Be happy FOREVER!_

The eight members of the League of Legends watched as the world burned. The entire sphere was ignited now, with laughter rather than smoke springing from the flames, finding their predicament hilarious (or so it seemed). Sonic composed another "last moments" speech, his third today, in his head. Spreading his burning wings, Tabuu soared above the platform, still cackling, and plunged himself into the lit oil.

_FOREVER!_

They fell.

o o o

Covered in emotion oil, and with her dress badly singed, Peach looked at the ball of fire above. The oil was burning up, leaving great holes in the sphere that joined up, until the final patches of flaming liquid dropped from the sky, leaving nothing behind. No Tabuu, no platforms, no anything.

"Oh," said Peach, slightly confused. "Did we win?"

"Looks like it. Taboo-oo's gone, you're all safe, the heroes are free and the clones are dead. Yes, I'd say you won."

Peach looked around her. She was sitting on wooden planks, which had given her a painful landing when she fell. The others were sitting around her looking dazed and frazzled, apart from Meta Knight, who was perched on the safety railings looking at where the burning ball had been. Behind him stood the speaker, clawed hands clasped below his spiny shell.

"Lucky you were here to catch us," said Peach.

"Lucky nothing," replied Bowser. "I had my Koopa Cruiser positioned beneath that ball the entire time."

He continued to look at the skies, his head tilted thoughtfully. Peach took a position at his side.

"He was one hell of a villain," said Meta Knight. "True evil is just desire gone wrong. It can be desire for anything: knowledge, revenge, love..."

Bowser wheeled sharply and made as if to leave the deck. Peach caught his arm as he passed.

"Bowser, why did you help us in the brawl?" she asked. "Me I can understand, but I wasn't the only one."

Bowser shrugged without facing her. "I'm the number one villain on Nintendo. I'm not having the clones taking the credit for wiping out the planet's heroes."

Peach nodded and smiled. Love gone wrong... Love of a woman, of family, of people. So many kinds, and Bowser had them all. But love can be put right. She felt that even for Bowser, dark enough to absorb the power of the eradicated SubSpace, there remained hope.

"Thank you, Bowser."

Bowser sighed heavily and turned, a glowing yellow object in his claws. "Peach, I want you to have this."

Peach cupped the feather in her hands. It was oddly warm. She gasped as realisation dawned.

"Is this a Moltres feather?" she asked.

"Either that or a very good fake I paid far too much money for. Consider it my little way of saying sorry for everything that's happened."

Peach flung her arms around the scaly lizard, being careful to avoid shell spikes and spiny ornaments. Bowser's green face took on a pinkish hue as he delicately hugged her back.

"It's lovely," said Peach from over his shoulder.

"Don't think this means anything else," said Bowser, carefully extricating himself. "It's just a 'sorry'. I'm still going to be trying to take over the Mushroom Kingdom as soon as we get back home."

Peach smiled. "Life would be so dull in the palace otherwise. I'd have to work on tax legislation."

Bowser left the deck quickly to avoid letting anyone see his sheepish grin. Peach watched after him, not noticing the Captain coming up behind her until he put his hand on her shoulder.

"You done?" he asked.

Peach turned. "Yeah."

"Good." He pointed at the Falcon Flyer, hovering by the railing. Sonic was peeking out of the door, accompanied by the sound of a thumping bass line.

"PARTY TIME!"

They ran inside, hand in hand.

**New Testament of the Master Hand**

**1  
**

**1 ****And lo! the Crazy Hand did awaken, and did look around itself, and was astonished. ****2 ****It had returned to the Final Destination, which was now blue again rather than purple, which the Hand knew although it had no eyes. ****3 ****And the Master Hand was there, presiding over it all and looking immeasurably smug. **

**4 ****"So you have regained consciousness, my sibling," did the Master Hand declaim, in its glory. ****5 ****"I have recreated you, in my capacity as creative spirit. ****6 ****Also over much time I have created more space in here, to replace the SubSpace. That stuff is just trouble waiting to happen."**

**7 ****And the Crazy Hand, still confused in its mind, did ask, "But how are you still alive, sibling mine? Were you not THWWWP-ed by Tabuu and his clones?" ****8 ****And the Master Hand did answer, "Assuming that word means what I think it does, yes I was. ****9 ****But I used my creative powers to recreate myself. Don't ask me how that's possible because I have no idea."**

**10 ****And the Crazy Hand, still uneasy in its mind, did press him: "If you can create this much space, why did you not make enough to swamp Tabuu when he was attacking us?" ****11 ****And the Master Hand did reply, "This takes time to construct, time and effort. And now that it is done, I intend to bask in it."**

**12 ****And then they rested.**


	20. 9 Redemption

**§9 Redemption**

Zelda and Yoshi were the first two out of the Flyer when it touched down. Zelda's pointed ears were sensitive to sounds, and to say that she thought drum 'n' bass remixes of racetrack themes were god(ess)less offences to music would be a modest understatement. Yoshi, although his ear holes were less receptive, tended more towards chorus calypso on the beach, and felt much the same way.

They did not know whether to laugh or cry. The scene of their victory was before them, and what a mix of emotions it was. The dead lay everywhere, either blown to pieces by bombardment or torn apart by clones, covered in purple stains where the mist had not quite disappeared. Diddy's reunion with his uncle was cut short by the need to inter half the clan, and Red's Pikachu was sobbing over the mangled mess that had once been his daughter. Olimar drew his remaining Pikmin close, and together they watched the cloud of multicoloured ghosts drifting towards the great garden in the sky. Ike and Lyn had a hand each on the emperor Marth's shoulders, as he despaired the loss of his lover on the battlefields of Archanea.

At least Roy had someone to miss him, thought Sonic, emerging behind Yoshi. He looked sadly at the headless corpse of Mewtwo, mourned only by the sky's light drizzle.

As in every war, there are winners and losers, and when the League were able to tear their eyes away from the carnage they found some of the winners. Luigi was suffocating his brother in a tight embrace, as Daisy looked on with an indulgent smile. Samus was shaking hands with Saki and ruffling his hair, as the boy struggled to say anything through the hormones. Ness was patting Boney on the nose; the Ice Climbers rejoiced in each other's company; the Starfox team had left their Arwings to greet their leaders; and Kirby was introducing himself to everyone and anyone with a wide grin. Standing apart from the rest, Snake looked on contentedly, while Shadow kept his back turned so that none would see his tears.

Yoshi smiled sadly. So many Yoshi dead to bury and remember. He turned to Zelda, but she had vanished. Looking back at the heroes, there was a green flash and Zelda had appeared, pouncing on Link and breaking down.

"I'm sorry," she said, tears tumbling across her face. "I'm so so sorry!"

Link smiled and patted her back tenderly, bewilderment stamped on his sharp features.

The rest of the LOL streaked past Yoshi as well. Sonic was a blur as he homed in on Shadow and Snake. The Captain ran over to Olimar, gave him a brief but intense hug and detoured to where Samus, Goroh and Saki were standing. Wario made for Midna, floating near Link and Zelda with some choice bruises across her face. Pit flew towards Brewster, the unflappable pigeon pouring a cup of coffee for the shell-shocked Red. Meta Knight, with a rare yell of glee, met Kirby halfway before tearing up on the pink blob's lack of shoulder, to Kirby's intense confusion.

Yoshi turned, tears for his dead clouding his vision, and saw Peach twiddling her thumbs. He squeaked and pointed towards Mario, who was waving frantically at her.

"Yes, yes, I suppose," she said, following him.

Yoshi rushed over to the battlefield itself, where the remaining Yoshis sent up a haggard cheer, and he fell among them with grateful sobs.

"Look at that," said Sonic smugly. "Did you ever think we'd be able to accomplish all of this?"

"All that bloodshed?" said Shadow. "I had no doubt you would, Sonic."

o o o

Peach's footsteps seemed to echo over the grass. All around her were shouts of thanks, people rejoicing and shaking hands. Oh, there were sounds of mourning as well, tears flowing freely as the dead were recognised, but Peach did not find them half so depressing.

Mario descended upon her, giving her a massive hug that nearly upended her. "Princess! You saved us! You and your friends! Oh, it's so good to see you again!"

Peach smiled weakly and nodded. "Me and my friends."

"You gotta hurry up!" said the exuberant plumber, pointing at Luigi and his girlfriend. "Luigi and Daisy are dying to congratulate you!"

Peach was sure that Daisy would much rather die than congratulate her.

"I'll be with you shortly," she said. "I've got a couple of loose ends to tie up first."

"Okie-dokie!"

Mario ran off with a cry of "Wahoo!", making Peach feeling slightly nauseous. She thought of the year she had spent wishing for him to be freed, and the month she had spent wishing almost the opposite. It was not his fault he was so much less attractive than...

"Hey princess."

She turned to her right. There he was, the cause of all this trouble. Despite Mario's presence, Peach made as if to throw herself into his body.

"Er, Peach?" the Captain said, pushing her away slightly. "You sure that's the best idea with your boyfriend watching?"

Peach looked at him in astonishment. "Boyfriend? No, no, he..."

"Don't kid yourself, kid. He's the one you'll marry, who'll get the benefit of cuddling up to your gorgeous body at nights in your royal bed. I was just a handsome stranger who happened to be passing through."

Peach continued to gape, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

"Now, Peach," said the Captain, putting a hand on her shoulder, "don't cry. I'm not too good at emotions. In fact," he said, wiping his face, "that's why I'm going now. I've said my good-byes. Can't stand all the mushy stuff."

The floodgates opened, and the gaping gave way to little sobs the Peach tried ever so hard to keep in check, but which would break out. The Captain embraced her, tenderly but with crotches apart.

"Don't make me feel like a bad person, Peach. I'm just not ready for anything like this. We'll see each other again. And whatever happens, we'll always have SubSpace."

Peach separated and wiped her face. "You're not a bad person, Douglas. Just an unintentionally cruel one."

The Captain hung his head in acknowledgement of the comment, and turned slowly away. Then he dashed off towards the Blue Falcon, in which Samus sat waiting. Next to her, Samurai Goroh and Saki were squashed up in the Fire Stingray. Samus gave a coy wave, and the Captain waved back.

Of course. Straight off into the arms of another woman. She should have expected it really. Peach fumed and sniffed and clenched her fists and told herself what a jerk he was and how she would never find a man that good ever again.

"Don't lose too much sleep over him," said Pit from behind her. "He's the type who can't stay still, even if he wants to."

Peach wheeled, tears still mingling with rainwater on her face. "How do you know?"

Pit looked a bit confused. "Not sure. I just... do."

Peach nodded, pulling a lace handkerchief out from her petticoats. "What about you, Pit?"

"Oh, I'm going back into Palutena's service," he said proudly. "She'd be lost without her Captain of the Guard. And here's my transport!"

A golden beam was shining through the clouds, a group of angels flying down it. The beam hit the soil just in front of the Blue Falcon, and when the Captain reached it he looked up and raised a hand to the sky, before he jumped in and the cars shot off across the plains.

"Weird," said Peach.

"He said I could come and see him whenever I want," said Pit. "He must like me, I guess!"

Better if I never see him again, Peach thought.

"Well," she said, holding out a hand, "so long, Pit. You'd better get going before that pretty girl angel stops staring at you."

Pit spun around, ignoring the hand. "There's a girl angel?"

A slight young blonde of about thirteen years stood towards the front of the group, looking quickly away when Pit turned.

"Okaygottago thanksPeach seeyabye!" said Pit as he raced towards the beam of light. Peach shook her head sadly as he was beamed up into the clouds.

Nor was he the only one who was leaving – the Pokémon were travelling back to their countries, accompanied by Red and his drooping Pikachu. The Kong clan was beginning its loping journey back to its island, carrying their dead on their backs, Donkey and Diddy in the lead. The Mr. Saturns returned to their vehicle, inviting Ness, Lucas and (after some hesitation) Boney to share for the journey back to Eagleland. Fox and Falco were getting into Arwings to fly off. The R.O.B.s, Brewster, Olimar and his Pikmin, the Greil Mercenaries and Marth – everyone was going home. Bowser's army had already vanished, their warp pipe swallowed back up by the ground. End of the road, Peach thought, as she reached Mario at last.

"Took your sweet time!" said Mario, beaming, and gave her another hug. "Who're your friends?"

"Captain Falcon," filled in Luigi. "Massive douche."

Peach coloured. No one noticed, however, because at that point Daisy gave a yell of rage and whisked past her, descending upon the hapless Wario like a harpy. The disguise of fitness and beauty was not enough to protect him, especially as after the Warioman interlude he had regained his helmet, biker's jacket and bright pink jeans, hanging loosely off the bottom Daisy was currently kicking.

"You!" she yelped, delivering another good kick. "How can you show up here after everything you've done? You've got a nerve!"

"Daisy..."

"Shut up, Peach! He may be pretty now, but I can fix that!"

Daisy battered away at the cowering villain until she found herself being effortlessly lifted off the ground by a giant orange hand, that dropped her neatly into Luigi's trembling arms. She stared in rage (and not a little jealousy) at the woman who draped herself over Wario.

"Thanks Midna," he said, giving Daisy a brusque stare. Then he took off his helmet. "Mario, I came to apologise. Partially because of my weakness, you were stuck in a canister of green liquid for over a year. I'm very sorry. It's too much to expect you to forgive me, and I don't. I'm just glad to see you're back."

Even Peach was shocked at the display of tact and diplomacy from New Wario. Mario just mouthed at him silently. Midna chuckled to herself and turned to Zelda, who was gripping Link's arm as if nothing short of divine intervention would persuade her to let go.

"Your teaching's quite something," Midna said. "You ought to have a go on Ganondorf. Maybe you could make something of him."

Zelda and Link both flinched at the name. Wario gave Midna a look; she bit her lip, her grey cheeks colouring slightly. Then Wario disentangled himself from her embrace and took Zelda's hand.

"Will everything be okay?" he asked.

Zelda looked up at her beau, who smiled upon her. "I think so." Then, in a whisper, "He seems to have forgotten everything. Ganondorf may have removed some of his memories during the construction of the Toon Link, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Wario nodded. "Probably for the best."

Midna took his hand, and he stared defiantly around, a dazzling smile parting his lips. "See you later, peeps. I'm off to revitalise the Mushroom Kingdom economy, starting with a massive cash injection from the LOVE's coffers. I wish you all well, but remember – however good you get, I'm-a number one!"

They disappeared in a black particle stream, zooming into the sky, Wario's last cackle hanging in the air joined by Midna's silvery laugh. Zelda shook her head sadly.

"He was doing so well."

Then she and Link were gone in a green flash. Peach turned to Mario, smiled softly and kissed him on the nose.

"Come on," she said, "let's get back to the palace. I'll make a special cake to mark the occasion." Then, softly, "If you know what I mean and I think you do."

Mario's smile expanded across his whole face. As Daisy and Luigi got back in their kart, Yoshi waddled up to Peach, a badly beaten David beside him, and signalled his saddle.

"I have come to carry you home, Princess," he said in a language unintelligible to his audience, "as our kind were wont to do in times of yore."

"Oh, Yoshi!" said Peach. "That's very thoughtful, but what about burying your people?"

"Do not fear for them. They are gone to a better place. The wind and the rain shall inter their bodies, and they shall become the earth once more."

"I've got no idea what you just said, but if you're sure, then let's go!"

Yoshi rolled his eyes as Mario jumped upon his back. The plumber was a lot heavier than Pit, but lighter than Snake. Peach boarded David, dug in her heels and they cantered off, Luigi, Daisy and a stampede of Yoshis in their wake.

The battlefield was almost empty of the living now. Meta Knight waddled up to the hedgehogs and Snake, followed by the smiling pink form of Kirby.

"You okay?" asked Sonic.

"At last," said Meta Knight. "Penance has been done, my heart feels pure once more, I am forgiven in the eyes of..."

"I was kinda hoping for a yes or no answer," said Sonic, "but that's good! I'm glad."

"What about you three?" growled Meta Knight. "The IPAF wants two of you dead, and if Shadow intends to collaborate with you he'll make his way onto their 'Most Wanted' list as well."

Sonic looked upwards and shrugged. "We'll figure something out. I've played this whole journey by ear, and I did fine!"

Meta Knight nodded. "Come back if you get into trouble. You are heroes on this planet now. You will always be welcome."

"Hai!" said Kirby, swallowing Sonic good-naturedly.

"Nice to meet you too, Kirby," said Snake.

Then Meta Knight and Kirby returned to the lump of semi-destroyed machinery that was the mini-Halberd, Kirby turning back frequently to wave. He ejected Sonic at the halfway point and beat Meta Knight to the ship, sporting a fine set of blue spikes. A figure in purple armour with a yellow moon was seen giving Meta Knight a firm and possibly unwanted hug when he boarded, and then the doors were closed. The trio waved as it lifted, wobbling like a jelly, and slowly pulled up and away.

"Something in your eye, Shadow?" asked Sonic, wiping off Kirby's lack of saliva.

"Hay fever."

The engines roared, the mini-Halberd almost fell to pieces, and then it was flying over the horizon, leaving the three alone in a wet field with a bunch of corpses that were just beginning to smell.

"Well?" Sonic said. "Any ideas?"

"The capsule I came down in should still work," said Shadow. "It's unarmed and unprotected apart from some basic heat-shielding, but in theory we could take it back."

"Brilliant!"

"Hang on," said Snake, "let's look at the facts. Shadow's been gone for over a week. The IPAF are going to get nervous; they'll wonder if he's defected too. I wouldn't rule out a whole fleet of cloaked IPAF ships hovering just outside this atmosphere, possibly with synthetic Chaos Emeralds of their own. We have one small space capsule, my explosives and two hedgehogs."

Sonic's face fell. It was a dilemma and a half. Much though he wanted to get home, he wanted to get home intact.

"It's a dilemma and a half," mused Snake. "Do we run the gauntlet of space, or stay here? If the latter, can we ever really belong to a planet on which we were not born? Or will we wander the roads of Nintendo, doomed to feel different for the duration of our existences, until we are buried in a corner of some foreign land..."

"Did I mention that Ivo Robotnik now holds a place on the IPAF Board?" interrupted Shadow.

"Ivo?" said Snake, snapping back to Nintendo. "That old maniac?"

"He has connections, plus he provided them with robots. It was all too easy for him to..."

"Come on, you guys! Step it up!"

Sonic was calling them from across the plain, his voice barely making it through the droplets.

"What are you doing?" yelled Snake.

"Going to the capsule, of course! I'm not letting Robotnik trick the IPAF into hunting us down! Not without hunting him down first!"

"The capsule's in the other direction," shouted Shadow.

A blur rushed past them. "I knew that!"

o o o

Time passes.

Nintendo's sun revolves slowly around the centre of its galaxy. Nintendo slowly revolves around its sun. Its inhabitants slowly revolve around its axis. Some things are, on a scale of millennia, unchanging, no matter what villains may do or fail to do. But on a more personal level, people's lives change, for the better and for the worse. (Probably for the better, in this case.)

What has happened to the villains?

Wolf survived his chemotherapy, but as soon as he was well enough to travel the Starfox team took him back to the Lylat System, where he was sentenced to fifty years' community service. He now drives a space rubbish truck, transporting refuse to landfill planets, and is strictly forbidden from smoking. He has to work with at least one other person in the truck, in case a spider crawls out of the rubbish and he hides behind the bins.

Rayquaza flies restlessly over the Pokémon countries, too high in the air to be seen from the earth. The rape law has been rescinded, allowing women to become trainers again and fight Red, who has found himself a job as a Gym Leader and is described by _Kanto News Weekly_ as "one of the most challenging battles any trainer can hope to face." Truth be told, Rayquaza has a more difficult one on its hands: stopping the recovered Kyogre and Groudon from destroying the world with driving rain and burning sun. It fights this battle every other week, and nobody notices.

Porky is gone for good, and Eagleland is much happier for it. It can finally rebuild without fear of hallucinations, although Ness has a hard time fighting off all the animated Porky statues and chimerae patrolling the land. (Lucas just lets Boney wade in.) At other times, the psychic children use their telekinesis to help with the rebuilding work, with Jeff busy working on new materials and devices to make the work easier, and the Mr. Saturns trying to help and making it harder.

King Dedede moved back in with his mother on Icicle Mountain, and got a job delivering the variety of products made by the Omega Factory, now entirely R.O.B.-run, to the native people below. He uses the recovered Dragoon to make these deliveries, waving to the Ice Climbers as they scale and re-scale the mountain below.

Ridley was discovered in western Archanea, metal exoskeleton burst open and head burning with the force of a thousand Charizards. Promised an indefinite supply of paracetamol, he was induced to help with the revival of the continent under emperor Marth. He now serves in the Archanean army, named the Soren Squadron by its commander General Ike, and fights alongside several members of the Kong clan who fancied a change of scene. They are accompanied by Diddy, who came back to get his guitar and then stayed on to "help", to his colleagues' chagrin.

Bowser continues to rule over the Koopa Kingdom, in between doting over his eight sons and yelling at Kammy. He plots and schemes with a regard to taking over the Mushroom Kingdom, because his life would be boring otherwise; but he is very much aware that the Mario Brothers will always be there to stop him. In a way, he relishes the fight as an intellectual exercise, although his country frequently protests that money supposed to be spent on housing and medicine goes to feed the war effort.

Ganondorf has vanished. It is fair to say that wherever he has ended up, he is grinding his teeth and looking for his next shot at taking over first the Hylian throne, then the world; but such is life.

What of the heroes?

Zelda reigns as Princess of Hyrule, with Link as her prince. Hyrule has gone back to being the prosperous albeit technologically backward country it once was under her wise leadership, although there remains a lack of religious freedom. Prince Link continues to suffer from amnesia regarding precisely what happened during the year of the LOVE, which Zelda strictly forbids anyone from talking about. And so all is well, save for the fact that the castle guards continue to report seeing a blue-suited apparition haunting the royal bedroom, brandishing a chain.

Her neighbour, Princess Peach, remains unmarried to her hero Mario, although they stay very close indeed. Luigi continues to carry out the plumbing, as well as cross-dressing every so often for Daisy's benefit, while Mario has abandoned his attempts at medicine and is looking into space travel. Does Peach still think about her heroic Captain? Possibly, but she never lets on, and frequently ruins her aide Toadsworth's sleep by making "cake" for Mario in her chamber. Meanwhile, the peach tree atop the Mushroom Tower continues to produce fine peaches all year round, which have made the Mushroom Kingdom the second biggest exporter of fruit Nintendo-wide.

That said, the revival of the country's economic fortunes has mostly been due to the continued success of Wario Ware Inc., with Wario back on board as CEO, sporting a gold tooth to replace the one removed by Mario Z and, under the advice of Zelda (with whom he continues to correspond by letter), a fancy new suit. New arrival Midna is Chief Marketing Officer, a position Wario maintains is "nothing to do with our relationship". She frequently models in the company's adverts. Waluigi is a foreman in Wario Ware Inc.'s biggest factory, and claims to be "umbly grateful" for his position.

Yoshi has retired from his position of chief of Yoshi's Island, and has taking up the post of Ambassador to the Pokémon Countries. In particular, he is the founder of the Mewtwo Memorial Pokémon Cultural Centre, situated in Mount Moon Plaza and run by Lucario and Jigglypuff. Flanked by metal and marble statues of Dialga and Palkia, it acts as a museum, a tribute to those Pokémon who died in the Battle of the Hylian Oak and a refuge for those who do not wish to be caught. Workers there claim that some of its first inhabitants have disturbing cyan eyes, and wish these monsters would not stare at them quite so hard.

Meta Knight has become Dreamland's first directly elected president, mainly on the back of his promises to work with Zelda on producing a magical amplifier that can send Dreamland back to Pop Star. In his spare time he still acts as a masked vigilante and leader of the Meta Knights, who work _with_ Kirby now (somewhat grudgingly, it must be said) to stamp out injustice and corruption wherever they find it. Trident, to her infinite chagrin, has still not managed to see beneath the mask.

Pit remains Captain of Palutena's bodyguard, but spends most of his free time working on re-establishing Smashville as a tourist hotspot, a decision made by Deputy Mayoress Pelly and grudgingly backed up by Tom Nook. The renovation of Smashville's parks is overseen by Captain Olimar, whose Pikmin work tirelessly to plant flowers and themselves in the ground. On days off, Pit visits the rejuvenated museum, where he spends hours playing with Celeste's half-racoon dog son, or hangs about in the Roost with his arm around a slender blonde angel.

That is when he is not being called to visit Captain Falcon in Port Town, which happens so often that he and the now sober Saki are close enough to make his girlfriend jealous more than once. Otherwise, the Captain keeps himself to himself, but rumours remain that the rebuilding of the Cylinder Wave track did not occur without some financing from the offshore fortress. (The request that it be renamed "Summer Wave" does nothing to dissuade the rumours.) He continues to compete in the F-Zero Grand Prix, thrashing a disgruntled Goroh on a regular basis, and a figure in an orange robotic suit is almost always among his spectators.

As for Sonic? He was last seen flying into a fleet of one thousand IPAF craft, guns facing him, Snake and Shadow as they cruised at a comparatively leisurely pace out of Nintendo's atmosphere. Sonic has not been without his fair share of luck so far, and it would be foolish to discount his chances entirely now.

That, though, is another story. This one, about the realm of the Master Hand and Crazy Hand, is almost done. But the planet remains, a hive of creation and destruction, of men and beasts and intelligent beings of all sorts, going about their daily lives, feeling joy and sadness and fear and an_ger and a whole range of emotions that make for fascinating observation._

_I have realised now that one cannot have happiness without sadness – it is a foolish attempt. One must balance the emotions if one hopes to feel them at all. And so, like R.O.B. 380,113, I look into this world I know nothing about and continue with my studies. I have a "mentor" now, who seems to know an awful lot about emotions. In fact, it seems to have more emotions than all the other beings in this world put together. Its name is Giygas, and we have a lot in common: both beings of energy, or at least if it has a matter form I have yet to grasp it. I find its screechings most intriguing._

_And time passes._


End file.
